Sky Runs Red
by firefly
Summary: Temari had her ideas on where the Fourth Shinobi War would take her. She'd just never pictured herself losing, being separated from her division, and wandering a barren wasteland with a zombie and an orphaned baby for company. Post-apocalyptic AU.
1. Chapter 1

Sky Runs Red

By: firefly

Note: After writing these two in ch.17 of Crack Whims, I couldn't help myself. Takes place in a post-apocalyptic setting after Madara succeeds with the Moon Eye plan. A lot of guesswork here, so forgive me if I mess up on the technicalities. |D Multi-chapter; have no idea how long it will be, so let's just go with it and see. :)

As for warnings, rated M for language, violence, and dark themes. Enjoy, and as always, reviews are love!

Sky Runs Red ch.1

The Sun beat down from high in the sky, scorching the landscape from its apex. Temari could feel it against the back of her head, a hot, prickling weight. Perspiration and grime covered her face and her eyes watered, stinging where the sweat ran into them. She blinked furiously and kept her back to the stone wall, fan clutched in her hands.

Beyond the barrier, she heard them. Vultures. They punctuated the dead silence with faint flapping. Pecking sounds. Occasionally a squawk. Nothing more.

She waited.

Several minutes went by, filled only by the sounds of the carrion birds. Then there was a muffled footstep and she froze, holding her breath. Slowly, steps ascended up the stairs on the opposite side of the wall she was leaning against, emerging from the basement of a burned down house.

Another set of footsteps followed the first ones out. They emerged out onto the sun-baked ground, neither of them speaking. That was no surprise. The tainted never spoke.

She didn't have to make much effort to hide her chakra. It was so drained she was down to the last dregs, left with just enough energy to keep herself upright and maybe use her fan as a bludgeoning weapon if they discovered her. If she breathed an iota louder than her current, shallow breaths, she was dead.

The two figures lingered by the cellar doors for a little longer, probably communicating their findings telepathically. After a few seconds, she heard the scrape of their feet over the gravel and almost wilted in relief.

They were leaving.

She didn't dare move for the next twenty minutes, straining her ears for even the slightest sound before cautiously venturing out from behind the wall. The first thing she laid eyes on was the decomposing corpse lying a few feet from the basement entrance. The vultures were still pecking at it, paying her no heed as she slowly circled around the wall towards them.

She looked at the body, expressionless. It was lying facedown. A civilian, probably.

Sheathing her fan, she raised her head to crack her neck and gaze into the clear, vivid blue of the sky, only to stop herself midway. The sun burned against her crown and she swallowed hard, heart rate picking up at the near miss.

It was no longer just the threat of night she had to watch for. Even now, during the mid-afternoon, she was at risk of seeing the gibbous moon in the clear sky. The slightest slice of it in the night was enough of a hazard. She didn't want to think about how well she'd fare against it during the day.

Keeping her eyes down, Temari swept the area for any potential threats. When she found none, she descended the steps leading down to the basement and shut the cellar doors behind her.

The powerful smell of burnt wood and soot hung thick in the dank air. Panels of sunlight streamed through the cracks in the doors, illuminating the dark recesses just enough to see by. She threaded her way through the debris and searched for anything useful.

Now that she was out of sight and underground, she let her shoulders slacken and breathed freely, the sudden loss in tension nearly driving her to the floor in exhaustion.

If anything, she could snare a bit of food, some supplies, and maybe clean up and rest for a few hours. She was confident the other tainted shinobi wouldn't come by to scope the area again. The first two had been enough. Madara was efficient like that.

Against her expectations, the basement turned out to be a lucky find. It was intact and spacious, all concrete and drywall and separated into two rooms. The first housed the laundry room and a tiny washroom. A furnace stood in the back, the space around it mottled with cobwebs. Clothes still hung on the line suspended between the walls. A few chairs lay scattered around. An ironing board and sewing table rested in the corner.

The second room was visible through the door standing ajar at the end. When she entered, she found it to be a cross between a pantry and a safe house. There were several cans of food and jars of preserves inside the cabinets, along with a few cases of baby formula.

She paused her exploration long enough to eat, doing so until she was full to the point of vomiting. Downtime was a precious commodity and she wasn't going to waste it snacking. Gorging was a safer tactic.

Once her stomach was full, she continued her search. A bare, queen-sized mattress lay in the corner, blankets lying rumpled at the end of it. Beside it, toy blocks and stuffed animals. She bit her lip. A family had been here recently. She didn't bother wondering if the corpse outside was one of them.

There was an armchair near the mattress. In the set of drawers at the opposite end, she found a tool set, flashlights, batteries, candles and rudimentary weapons. Definitely civilians; some of the many who'd stayed behind in lieu of evacuating.

She raised her gaze to the ceiling. The wooden planks that had comprised the first floor of the house were blackened and singed from the fire but still intact. She wagered that unless someone went stomping over them, they'd remain in one piece. She followed the path of the flames in the singed wood until her gaze landed on a piece of burnt drywall that had collapsed near the set of drawers.

There was nothing more to see.

A few minutes later, she stripped herself of her clothes and clambered into the large, plastic sink next to the laundry machine, almost crying in relief when warm water spilled from a turn of the faucets. When she couldn't find soap, she bathed using laundry detergent, desperate to rid herself of the sweat and dirt. She washed her clothes along with her body, then used her _miswak_—an oral hygiene twig crafted from a persica tree—to brush her teeth.

When she was finished, she hung her dripping garments on the clothesline, dressing herself in the oversized t-shirt and shorts she found still sitting in the dryer. Gradually, the bright panels of sunlight faded in the basement, casting it into the pitch.

Temari was ready for it. Arming herself with her fan and the rest of her supplies, she took up a spot in the darkest corner of the basement next to the furnace. Reclining there, she watched, expectant, as the darkness slowly diffused into a dull, coppery colour, growing brighter and more intense until the dim light flooding the room was a deep, threatening red.

Outside, she could imagine the eerie transformation of the landscape. The ground glowed russet, plant life and water following suit. A rusty tinge settled upon everything.

One direct look into the moonlight was enough to lose yourself forever. She'd seen it happen with her own eyes. The majority wandering the surface were the tainted, already taken in by the all-encompassing genjutsu; they scoped the land for survivors of the purge, killing the ones who resisted.

The two who'd searched the basement before had been Suna and Mist ninja, respectively.

It occurred to her as an afterthought that she hadn't marked her calendar. Though she was exhausted, the recall of her nightly ritual spurred her to wakefulness again. She dug through her pack, searching until she found the small, business agenda she'd scrounged up from one of the other ruins.

Flipping it open to the right page, she uncapped the adjoining pen and carefully marked an X onto June 16. Then she went back to the beginning and counted through the days, flipping through page after page of red X's.

Twenty-nine.

She laid her head back against the wall, gazing blankly into the darkness. Twenty-nine days since the purge began. Twenty-nine days since they lost the war.

Her memory of the exact moment it happened was fuzzy. She'd been separated from the rest of her division, as well as from Gaara and Kankuro, in an effort to dispatch more victims of the Edo Tensei. The group of undead had been targeting the makeshift medical centre they'd set up in an abandoned warehouse, endangering the most precious commodity they had at that point in the fight—their medical nin.

They proved far easier to subdue than the kages, and the squad's success at sealing them bolstered them with the first flare of optimism since Naruto and the Eight-Tails had gone off to confront Madara two days before. A cheer went out when they sealed the last one, a moment of celebration Temari felt was well deserved when they'd succeeded without casualties.

They'd had a few precious minutes of happiness after that, the team entering the warehouse to recuperate for the night and Temari joining the chief medic in the corner office for a brief status report.

Then it happened, as silent and swift as a cloud blinking out the light of the sun. She'd heard the noise of celebration—any noise at all, really, cease from where she stood in the side office. Her gaze met that of the chief medical nin for a fraction of a second, the look in the man's eyes reflecting the same sentiment in hers.

Something had gone wrong.

Then the screams started. She whipped around, freezing in the doorway when she caught sight of the blood red moonlight streaming through the windows. Members of her division, the injured, and the medics gazed up at the moon through the glass, faces frozen in expressions of terror.

Then, in a movement so swift and simultaneous it had to have been orchestrated, every shinobi exposed to the moonlight calmly drew out their exploding notes and detonated them. The resulting explosions collapsed the entire building with her inside, killing everyone.

She didn't recall the moment of impact, only able to piece together what had happened when she'd come to in the coffin-like niche formed by the office desk and a collapsed wall that had shielded her. The first thing she'd registered was the sight of the dead chief medic, his motionless form visible through the gap in her enclosure.

Next to him, the collapsed wall and the open night sky. Tinged red.

The broken wall crushing into her chest turned out to be her saving grace, shielding her eyes from exposure to the moon. But through the gap, she made out flashes of light. The noise of fighting. Screaming.

It had taken her three days of observing the massacre to learn the basic workings of the genjutsu. It had taken her another two days to claw her way out of her prison.

Since then, she'd arrived at some tentative conclusions about the situation, marking them down in her agenda for the sake of keeping her mind occupied.

The ones directly exposed to the moonlight were the tainted, made distinct by the red haze clouding their eyes. In the first few days following the inception, their only purpose seemed to be the complete and systematic extermination of the untainted shinobi. They attacked ruthlessly and without reprieve, impervious to the pleading of their comrades.

That, she'd come to write in the agenda, circling the word, was the _purge_.

For reasons as yet unknown to her, Madara wanted to start his new world with a clean slate. He was not willing to wait on those who'd managed to avoid exposure to the Infinite Tsukuyomi, instead sending the tainted out to exterminate the stragglers.

Another thing she'd noted was that the phases of the moon differed in their potency of the genjutsu. She'd realized it after observing the numbers of tainted that appeared after each phase. The waxing and waning crescents, as well as the first and fourth quarters yielded far fewer repurposed shinobi.

The gibbous and full moons garnered the most, the full moon in particular potent enough to sway the senses even through reflections on the ground. The new moon was their only salvation, putting the red out of sight for one night and blanketing the landscape with familiar, comforting blackness.

Despite that, there was no safe time to travel. The tainted wandered the surface constantly, ebbing in numbers during the day and coming out full force in the night. It all came down to how best you could avoid them, a feat made difficult in daylight even if the sun provided better bearings, and a feat made damn near impossible at night when your vision was limited and you were forced to divide your concentration between not looking at the moon and not getting killed.

Quick, covert movements in the afternoon were the best bet. They allowed just enough time to rotate positions without a high risk of being spotted. She was able to see where she was going. She could scavenge supplies from the burned out dwellings dotting the landscape. And the sight of the sun kept her from going insane.

Temari chewed her bottom lip, tracing her finger over the map from her pack. Her fingernail skirted the border line between Lightning Country and the Land of Frost, her last known position before everything had gone to hell. In nearly thirty days, she doubted she'd advanced more than two kilometres from the line, bringing her no closer to where she knew the rest of the 4th division would be. Where Gaara and Kankuro would be.

The thought of her brothers made her hand slacken around the map, eyes growing distant and foggy. She could see them perfectly, reassembling the army and revaluating their attack plan, Kankuro rallying their spirits and Gaara commanding them with surety despite the dismal circumstances. She knew, too, that while they were doing this, they were wondering about her in equal measure, worried but confident she'd find them again.

Temari smiled faintly, gazing with unfocused eyes into the dark.

Perhaps she'd gone a little insane. The time spent trapped in the collapsed warehouse with a clear view of the massacre going on around her probably had something to do with it. But like a proper shinobi, she shoved the experience to the back of her mind and concentrated on the here and now, focused despite knowing things were probably worse than she thought, that all control had been lost, that because Madara had managed to accomplish his plan, he'd gotten the Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails and that Naruto was dead. She _focused_, even if it left her with inexplicable tremors and a constant nausea roiling in her gut.

As far as she could tell, the Land of Lightning was ground zero. It had been teeming with the highest concentration of shinobi during the war. As of now, the rest of the world was probably following suit in a hellish imitation of the purge. Different, probably, for the civilian-dense countries, but with the same outcome.

She hoped her ruminations had some degree of accuracy and that her survival wasn't a freak accident while everyone else was actually dead or repurposed. They must have been in hiding, biding their time and trying to re-think their strategies. It's what she would have done.

It was the only thing that could be done.

Temari blinked, brought out of her reverie by the sting in her tired eyes. She dropped the map to the ground, back and neck stiff as she slowly rose to her feet. The mattress in the next room would be a haven after spending a month sleeping in low ditches and the hollows of trees. Shuffling, she made her way into the room and sank heavily onto the bedding, falling asleep instantly.

She didn't dream, a boon she was grateful for when she usually went to bed with the fear of confronting all the doubts, terrors, and anxieties she shoved down into her subconscious during the day. But she slept in comforting blackness, so deep she didn't hear the sound emanating faintly from the other end of the room.

It escalated in volume, worrying at her slumber till her features twisted in her sleep, jaw clenching at the disturbance. It was the pain of her gritting her teeth that suddenly jarred her awake, leaving her disoriented and alert in the dark.

She listened to the silence, hearing nothing but the faint stirrings of wind above ground and her own racing heartbeat.

Then she heard a noise that made her blood run cold.

A muffled cry.

She flung off the blankets instantly, sitting up and willing her eyes to adjust to the dark. The room was near black, none of the red moonlight reaching past the door. Tense, she strained her ears for the sound. It didn't take long; another soft cry pierced the silence, somewhere to the left of her.

Her head whipped in that direction, eyes searching aimlessly until they adjusted enough to make out the edges of the collapsed drywall. Her heart leapt into her throat.

An instant later, she was shoving her weight into the wall, pushing until it crumbled away and fell to the floor. Behind it, she found an overturned cot, tipped on its side and pressed into the adjacent brick. A baby teetered on the edge of it, inches away from falling out onto the floor. He was crying quietly, pathetically, as though he'd been doing it for hours and could no longer keep it up.

She stared at him for a good five seconds, entranced by both his miraculous survival and the utter incongruity of the sight. When he emitted another hoarse cry, she snapped out of her reverie and reached down, taking him carefully from under the arms and lifting him out.

He hung limp in her hands, movements weak and fitful as she gingerly laid his head against her shoulder. Then she manoeuvred her way around the fallen wall and carried him into the laundry room where the red moonlight provided adequate exposure.

Taking a seat on one of the chairs, she checked him over. He had a few scrapes here and there, his curly brown hair riddled with dust and bits of drywall. There was a large cut on his forehead, crusted with dried blood. It stood out vividly against the fair skin of his face and Temari had to close her eyes to force back the image of Gaara that rose in her mind's eye.

She inspected his body, relieved to see him plump and well-fed. By the looks of it, he hadn't been there very long. Prodding his limbs, she checked for swelling or tenderness in case he'd broken any bones. She found none.

"You're one lucky kid," she murmured, rubbing his back comfortingly while looking into his watery green eyes. "Shh, you're all right...you're all right."

Something was dangling from his wrist. Temari raised his arm into the light to see.

It was a tiny, beaded bracelet, the sort handed out by hospitals with the baby's name spelled in white, plastic squares. A thread dangled loose, spilling a tiny blue bead onto the floor as she turned his wrist into the light to read his name.

She found half the beads gone, his name lost somewhere in the debris in the next room. The only letters remaining were _m, a, r, u_.

"Maru," she muttered.

When he emitted another agitated cry, she released his arm and carried him over to where she'd seen the bottles of baby formula. He must have been hungry. Probably needed a diaper change, too. She took about completing the tasks with single-minded intensity, grateful for the momentary reprieve from her scattered thoughts.

His diaper was soiled and had been for a long time, leaving him with a livid red rash. She had an aloe vera gel in her medical kit for burns and gently applied that to his raw skin, murmuring to him to soothe his squalling. After that, she'd been fortunate to find an entire package of diapers in the cabinet over the sink, and after following the diagram, she managed to change him into a new one.

Then she was preparing his formula, measuring out the powder meticulously and mixing it with heated tap water. There were a few bottles lying at the bottom of the laundry sink, left to drain after they'd last been washed. Rinsing them well, she filled one of the bottles to the brim with formula and carried him over to the chair.

He grabbed for the bottle and practically shoved it into his mouth, drinking so desperately he choked and spat up on her. She wrestled it out of his hands, holding it at a lower angle and watching him drain the milky fluid to its last drops. He fell asleep instantly after his feeding.

Temari just sat there for a while, staring at him with a calm, detached sort of shock. To fall asleep so easily, so trustingly in the arms of a stranger, and remain so ignorant of the sheer hell going on mere feet above seemed unfathomable to her.

As though afraid to break him, she gently swept the brown curls away from his forehead, rough fingertips trailing skin so soft it felt as though it would tear. Her eyes flitted to the cut above his left eyebrow, her stomach clenching at the sight. It looked heinously wrong.

Besides her limited experience with Kankuro and Gaara, Temari had no experience in rearing children. But her handling of him seemed to be innate, rising from a source besides simple maternal instinct. In the last few hours where she'd felt her thoughts teetering towards madness, she found herself holding to him like a piece of sanity.

He was the first untainted face she'd seen since it began. The first living one. If someone as frail and helpless as he could survive the purge, then perhaps her hopes weren't too far off.

Her arms instinctively curled tighter around him as she rose to her feet. She'd lost the will to live the moment she'd seen the devastation, attributing her survival solely to the thought of Gaara and Kankuro. But now, she'd live for him, too.

Carefully, she made her way back to the mattress and laid him down, taking a moment to swathe the blanket around his tiny frame. Then she slowly lay down beside him, tentatively shifting until she was comfortable and holding him in the crook of her arm.

In the back of her mind, she realized she should have felt burdened. Panicked, even, now that the life of something so small and helpless had been placed in her hands when she could hardly handle herself.

_It's a paradox_, she thought, eyes drifting over his serene features, _and I really have lost my mind, because I feel..._

His lashes fluttered, lips moving soundlessly in his slumber. Temari drew him nearer and pulled her knees up to surround him fully.

_I feel secure. _

She fell asleep with him curled against her, comforted for the first time in thirty nights.

* * *

Three days passed.

Maru seemed to overcome his initial shock and began viewing his surroundings with inconsolable panic, as though he remembered who he was and that the blonde woman taking care of him was not his mother.

He began screaming, bursting into crying fits at random intervals, forcing Temari to take him into the farthest, darkest corner of the basement to prevent the sounds reaching the surface. She'd smother him against her as tightly as she could without cutting off his air, features twisted in a grimace as his sobs reverberated against her chest.

"I know, I know," she murmured to him repeatedly, reassuring in a flat, mechanical sort of way. "It'll be all right..."

She felt no guilt for lying, forced to believe the falsehoods herself to cope with the sight of red light flooding the basement every night. Every time she opened her eyes was a reminder that she was living on borrowed time.

And she made good use of every minute, charting the moon phases to plan her next excursion outside and keeping her body strong through resistance training. Her main endeavour, though, was improvising a way to see in the dark.

She had excellent eyesight but it wasn't enough in the current circumstances. Not when her only available time slot to roam the surface was the new moon and the world would be in blackness.

The technique was something she'd been working on since before the war began, secret because she wanted to show Gaara and Kankuro first when she'd mastered it. It involved exuding chakra over the entire surface of her body and manipulating the air inches above her skin, swirling it till it created a wind barrier around her.

Its main purpose was to alert her to an oncoming assault before it landed, designed to pick up changes in air pressure from the force of an impending blow. She'd created it with the intent to compensate for her disadvantage at close-range battle, or if she ever found herself incapable of using her fan. The concept was simple enough, but mastering the dispersal of chakra was incredibly difficult.

Her chakra control was already above par, a necessity to manipulating her energy to be as sharp and thin as possible. But she was unused to emitting a steady, even flow over her entire body in the way used by medics. Her control was not wound tight enough to manage it yet, making the technique inefficient. Her chakra leaked from her the way air leaked from a punctured balloon.

Where she was now, she could only use it for ten minutes without half her energy diffusing uselessly into the air around her.

It was in that state, drained of half her chakra reserve, that they found her.

The night had proved to be an anomaly from the beginning, darkness falling with no red moonlight to accompany it. She was taken aback, knowing the moon was supposed to be in its waning crescent, and was momentarily seized with the unbidden hope that the genjutsu had been broken. But then she smelled it.

Ozone. It seeped, thick and cloying, into the damp basement. Occasionally, the gentle patter of drizzle could be heard striking the floorboards overhead. Her shoulders slackened when she realized what had happened. A heavy overcast had blotted out the night sky, hiding the moon and stars.

Maru stirred, agitated by the smell and the humidity, and broke into fits of crying every other hour. The fourth time he did it, she rose from her cross-legged position on the floor and strode over to his cot, expression taut with frustration.

"You need to stop," she told him, lifting him out and leaning his head against her shoulder. "You're going to get us—"

Temari cut herself short, freezing when she heard a noise from above. Maru continued to fuss into her chest as she strained her ears and listened.

Footsteps.

She slowly raised her eyes to the ceiling, throat growing parched at the sound of feet treading the singed floorboards overhead. Maru made another keening noise and Temari tightened her grip on him compulsively.

"_Quiet_," she hissed.

To her relief, he actually fell silent, probably distracted by the unfamiliar expression of terror on her face and the noise of footsteps. They waited, hearing nothing. Then quite suddenly there was something that sounded like rain hitting the floorboards—only heavier.

Temari's brow furrowed in confusion, the feeling slowly giving way to foreboding when the liquid leached through the cracks in the wood and a powerful smell saturated the air.

Oil. They were going to torch the place again.

She'd hardly realized it before a match dropped and she heard the whoosh of flames igniting. Then she was running, grabbing her supplies and stowing them in her satchel. She tucked Maru into the sling she'd fashioned from a bed sheet, swaddling him tightly against her chest.

Her fan was out by her side as she slid open the latch on the cellar doors, fingers twitching around the handle as she counted the seconds between the footsteps walking away.

One. Two. _Three_.

Embers exploded into the air and the roar of flames filled her ears when she burst from the cellar doors, fan unsheathed and open before the tainted could even react to her appearance. Gritting her teeth in effort, she swung the fan in an arc and unleashed her dust wind technique, simultaneously blowing them away along with the flames. The fire extinguished completely with the thick layer of dust that settled upon it.

Without wasting a second, she sprinted away from the scene and caught the next gust of wind, swinging her fan again and leaping upon it. It soared into the sky, into a blackness so absolute she had to look down at the fires dotting the landscape to ascertain how high and far she'd gotten.

Distance, she thought intently. I just need to get far enough. I need to put Maru somewhere safe.

At this wind speed, it would take her half a kilometre, tops, before she had to land again. And with the speed she'd seen the tainted run at, that gave her approximately three minutes to hide Maru and take them on.

She looked forward, lips thinning into a thin line as she counted the seconds towards descent.

Her estimation was right on target, bringing her to land several metres from a burning farmhouse. She hit the ground running, sheathing her fan while frantically searching the area for a hiding place.

There. A stone wall.

She dashed over to it, undoing the knots on the sling and carefully lowering the bundled infant into a niche between the brick and the debris of another razed house. Miraculously, he stayed quiet, comforted by the snug swaddling. Temari pressed a reassuring hand against his cheek before sprinting back towards the darkness to await their arrival.

The farther she could keep them from the firelight and Maru, the better. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, leaving her just capable of making out the outlines of stone columns and sparse vegetation. Despite the overcast, the environment retained a muddy, carmine tinge. Her tension mounted. There was too much room for them to dodge her attacks and she was liable to get surrounded. That, and she had no idea how well they could see in the dark.

She clenched her fists and waited.

A minute later, she caught sight of the first figure in the distance, running towards her at full speed. There would be another. They never travelled alone. True to her judgment, another figure appeared shortly after that. Then another. And another.

A cold weight settled against her ribs, cutting off her breath.

There were four of them. Two from Konoha, one from Suna, and the last from—

No, she reminded herself sharply. There was no Suna anymore. No Konoha. No Kumo. The world was a giant arena with no sides, and if she wanted to get out of this alive, she couldn't let archaic notions like alliances and patriotism hold her back. Her heart lurched when she recognized the Suna nin as Kera, a bubbly chuunin who'd been part of the tactical subdivision. The girl's face was marred with scratches and bruises, her clothes in tatters. But her eyes were hazed with redness, acute and hyperaware.

Kera, she knew, was a close-range fighter. The Kumo nin, she could only guess, though the presence of the katana strapped to his back and their natural affinity for lightning suggesting close to mid-range. The other two, she had no idea.

They raced towards her, unrelenting at the sight of her standing ready with her fan. Temari waited for the exact moment they got within range, then swung the fan open to three stars. The first gale of wind knocked them off their feet, throwing them to the ground. The second was filled with lacerating winds that could have levelled a forest, its gusts heard tearing into clothing and flesh even from a distance.

The move swallowed up massive amounts of chakra, even more so than usual as she spread it to cover a wider range to compensate for her poor aim in the dark. It was a justifiable sacrifice considering it usually left victims too heavily injured to move.

Her expression morphed to one of shock, though, when she caught sight of them staggering to their feet, impervious to their injuries. Once more, they charged her, countenances twisted in rage. Once again, Temari threw another gust of wind, forcing even more chakra into it. It hit them like a brick wall, knocking them off their feet again.

A cold, trickling feeling of dread ran down her back when she caught sight of them rising seconds later, clothing shredded and skin lacerated beyond repair. Before she could gather her bearings for the next swing, the Kumo-nin formed a seal and the smell of static filled the air.

Temari hardly registered what was about to happen before throwing herself out of the way, the tingle of charged particles grazing her skin as a bolt of lightning gouged a hole in the ground. One of the Konoha nin was on her immediately, swinging a windmill shuriken towards her neck. Sparks burst from the collision of the shuriken against the side of her fan, the force of impact driving a jolt of pain up her wrists.

As he moved to pull back and swing again, Temari lunged forward and swung around, bludgeoning him in the side of the head with her closed fan. The blow shattered his jaw and skull, spraying teeth and blood across the ground. He staggered, senseless, then collapsed.

She wasn't allowed a moment of reprieve, her muscles protesting at the sudden leap backwards she had to take to dodge another one of the Kumo nin's lightning strikes. Desperate, she unleashed another gale of wind, knocking him back as Kera and the remaining Konoha nin leapt at her.

The Suna chuunin was adept with weapons and did not waste a second in swinging her tanto at Temari's neck, using her momentum from the missed blow to swing around and slice at her midsection. The tip of the blade caught her flak jacket, millimetres from penetrating through to the skin.

Hearing it tear, Temari jumped straight into the air, bolstered by a swing of her fan to dodge the next cut and in anticipation of the Konoha nin bearing down on her from behind. The two skidded to a stop, almost colliding. Kera recovered first, catching sight of the jounin plunging down towards them with the serrated edge of her fan glinting in the dim light. She flipped out of the way. The Konoha nin did not react in time.

He dropped a moment later, his body hitting the ground before his head did.

Once again, Temari barely managed to land before she was forced to dodge again, the constant, volatile movements spilling dangerous amounts of lactic acid into her muscles. The desperate flings of her fan to keep Kera and the Kumo nin at bay were making her chakra plummet to critical levels, a fact she was all too aware of as her movements slowed and Kera managed to form a seal without her notice.

Her movements ceased altogether when the chuunin burst from the ground behind her and seized her fan, kicking her in the back. Temari stumbled from the blow, cold panic flooding her veins as she the felt the iron weight of her fan slip from her grasp.

Kera flung it somewhere into the darkness the same instant the Kumo nin lunged on Temari from behind, his breaths hard and animalistic. His arms tightly ensnared her neck.

She immediately clamped down on his wrists, straining against his grip to stop him snapping her neck. His strength was monstrous, stemming from total lack of inhibition in the use of his muscles. At the same instant, Kera came charging her from the front, kunai out in front of her.

Temari's reaction was both instinctive and desperate. She reached back and seized the hilt of the sword on the Kumo nin's shoulder, yanking it out and slashing violently in front of her.

Kera fell back, throat spraying blood, and Temari wrenched the kunai out of her hand, kicking off of her and sending herself and the Kumo nin crashing to the ground. The impact loosened his grip just enough for her to gauge the distance between her neck and his and she rammed the kunai into the junction beneath his chin. It was a near miss, the blade nicking her throat before it found home.

He snarled, gushing blood against her shoulder, but his hold didn't relent, instead tightening on her windpipe. Frantic, Temari stabbed him again. Then again. Then once more. He was gurgling now, arms slackening just enough for her to twist out of his grip. She lunged to her feet, flipping away from the barrage of weapons the madly shrieking Kera unleashed on her. The chuunin ran at her, eyes wide and wild despite the gush of blood still spraying from her throat.

Temari thought herself finished until she realized she was still holding the katana. It was unfamiliar in her grip, far from being her weapon of choice, but she'd gotten past the point of efficiency. If it could stab, it could work.

Kera had the same idea, her tanto in hand once more. She sliced at her, black hair flying in wild disarray about her head. Temari parried the blow with the katana, ears ringing from the clang of steel, only for the younger girl to swing the blade around and make a devastatingly fast swipe at her midsection again.

It caught the tear in the flak jacket, this time finding skin. Temari stumbled back, bracing a hand against her side. Her fingers immediately became wet with blood.

Kera came at her again, swinging mercilessly and forcing her to retreat. Temari was nowhere near on par with the chuunin when it came to sword fighting, but she knew her well enough to anticipate the pattern the girl fought with. Her technique was geared towards making the opponent bleed out, comprised by quick, zigzagging cuts at all the major arteries and soft tissue from the neck down. Her last destination would be the femoral artery, putting her at a vulnerable position as she bent to strike with the short tanto.

Temari waited for it, counting each strike with a mounting heart rate until Kera aimed low and left herself open. Without wasting a beat, Temari drove her knee into the girl's chin, snapping her head back and sending her reeling backwards with her arms spread-eagled. Gripping the katana in both hands, Temari raised it and put every ounce of her strength into plunging forward.

Her gaze met the other girl's for a fraction of a second, long enough to convey what she couldn't say through words.

_I'm sorry._

The blade pierced her chest, driving her up against a stone column and penetrating the rock behind her. The impact drove cracks up the surface. Undeterred by the impalement, Kera's arms swiped at her, fingernails managing to scratch the crest of Temari's cheek as she lurched back.

She stared, horrified, as the girl continued to glare lividly and seethe through the blood pouring between her teeth. Her hands reached up and gripped the blade of the katana, fingers squeezing in an effort to wrench it out of her chest.

The blade was immovable. That much was fact. But she persisted, pulling till her hands slid along the steel from the blood streaming from the lacerations, pulling till her fingers were severed to the bone, pulling till the blood drained out of her neck and her hateful glare froze on her face, staying even after her heart stopped beating.

Temari stared at her, panting harshly and shaking from exertion. She took an unsteady step backwards, tearing her gaze away from the dead girl to the others. The Kumo nin lay motionless, bled out. The other two were also dead.

She couldn't even bring herself to feel relief, shoulders still taut with the adrenaline rushing through her. The landscape seemed much brighter to her now, another effect of the adrenaline as her pupils dilated to the extent of taking up her irises. The farmhouse continued burning in the distance, a false beacon.

Slowly, she started forward, eyes skipping over the copious amounts of blood staining the ground in search of her fan. She found it several meters ahead, bloodstained and muddied in the dirt.

Stooping, she retrieved it, pausing a moment to look at the sight of it shaking in her hands. Steeling herself, she clenched her fists to stop the tremors and reached up to sheath it, only to stop midway when she caught sight of something ahead of her.

The air left her lungs.

_Another one._

The figure was moving steadily across the arid ground a fair distance ahead, hardly distinguishable against the darkness. Too far from her.

Much too close to Maru.

Without even realizing it, she took a running leap upon her fan and soared into the sky once more, teal eyes fixed on the indistinct black blur she was hurtling towards with reckless speed. Her flight was soundless, its presence going unnoticed due to her severe loss of chakra until her feet collided with the dirt behind him and she swung the serrated edge of her fan at his neck.

The sound of her landing was all it took to alert him to the oncoming blow and he instantly ducked, whirling around with his fingers raised in a seal. A massive fireball erupted across the ground, the sudden vibrancy slamming into her pupils despite the shield of her fan. When she lowered her weapon, she found herself half-blind, the sudden flash of light undoing her adjustment to the dark.

But the rush from her last battle left her hyperaware, her ears alerting her to the sharp ring of kunai cutting air before he released it. She knocked it away with her fan, realizing she needed to get in close for a killing blow if she was to have any chance at winning.

She was taken aback when he dodged the blow of her fan and avoided her elbow, hardly able to wonder how he'd anticipated it before she found herself barely evading the kick flying towards her head. She couldn't avoid the sudden volley of shuriken that followed, though, feeling several snag in her flak jacket and one bite deeply into her thigh.

She fell back, suddenly overcome by the hysteric fear that this was it. Her limbs turned to jelly, thoughts dissolving into a fog and a mantra of _not now. Not like this. Please not like this._

A hoarse noise lodged in her throat as she saw him step forward.

Then Maru suddenly cried out.

The shrill sound cut through the night like a knife, stopping the man in his tracks. His head whipped towards the source of the noise. Temari did not allow him an opportunity to recover, only managing to catch him by surprise through the sheer brutality of her next move.

Maru's voice was drowned out by the near-inhuman shriek of effort that tore out of her throat when she raised her fan and slammed the blunt end of it into his thorax. She felt his ribs and sternum cave beneath the blow, shards of bone splintering his organs and sending him flying back.

It was an instant kill.

The amount of energy she'd propelled into the attack drove her to her knees, pain ricocheting through her overtaxed muscles. Her heaving breaths sounded like sobs in her ears, uncontrollably loud and harsh in the dark. The body landed with a distant thump somewhere ahead of her.

Maru wailed from behind the stone wall. She flinched and tried to stand, gritting her teeth when she found her limbs trembling uncontrollably. Staggering to her feet, she braced a hand against the top of her fan and lifted her head.

Movement. He was getting up again.

She merely stood there, petrified. _That blow should have killed him. He couldn't be alive, not unless he was—_

He took a step towards her.

Run, a voice interrupted her musings. Run, run, run, _run_.

She finally obeyed, launching herself over the stone wall where she'd hidden Maru. Snatching him up from the ground, she dashed away as fast as her legs could carry her, only to stumble to a stop near the burning house when her fan slipped from her grasp and fell to the dirt.

She seized it, stalling only a fraction of a second. It was all it took for the voice behind her to reach her ears.

"Wait."

Temari froze.

Her pulse hammered in her ears, eyes wide and unblinking as a prickling feeling ran down the back of her neck. Maru whimpered into her chest and she rested a tremulous hand upon his head, bracing herself as much as she was bracing him when she slowly turned around.

Basic shinobi logic dictated that one never stopped or reconsidered a course of action at the behest of an enemy. It was just common sense.

But the tainted _didn't talk_.

She swallowed hard, waiting, eyes searching the dark for the nearing footsteps.

Maru's whimpering turned to crying, smothered into her shirt as she stood near the crackling timbre and he slowly approached. She knew what he was the instant she saw the ashen skin in the light, her realization confirmed when he stepped forward and the firelight bled over his face.

Black sclera. One of the Edo Tensei.

His slow gait bespoke caution and wariness, features arranged in a way to suggest he was just as surprised to see her as she was him. The look only intensified when his gaze fell on the infant held against her chest.

Belatedly, she noticed the red glistening in the centres of his eyes, recognizable for all the times she'd seen it in her perusal of the bingo books. Then her gaze drifted, taking in the rest of him. The dark hair. The world-weary expression. The distinct facial features.

She'd just found Uchiha Itachi.


	2. Chapter 2

Sky Runs Red

By: firefly

Note: I am having way too much fun with this. We'll see how it goes, as I'm basically writing along with the events in the manga. Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! You guys are awesome. :D Also, major props to you action writers for doing fights scenes on the regular; that shit is death.

Anyway, please enjoy, and remember that reviews are love!

Sky Runs Red ch.2

Her lungs burned, eyes running from the sting of smoke and trailing wet streams down her face. The skin of her cheeks pricked with heat, a subtle reminder that she was standing too close to the fire.

But she didn't move, oblivious to the glowing embers raining down on her and the muffled whines Maru was emitting against her chest.

Uchiha Itachi was standing ten feet away from her, still as a stone and staring at her with a subdued sort of surprise. Temari stared back, unable to find a name for what she was feeling as her body screamed with exhaustion and the wounds in her front and leg throbbed.

There was a long moment of tense silence. Then his lips parted to speak and explosions rang out in the distance. They both stiffened, turning their heads towards the globes of flame lighting up the night sky. It was quickly followed by a creeping surge of chakra heading their way.

Temari felt her mouth go dry and realized she needed to get the hell out of there as fast as she could. Without pause, she gritted her teeth and yanked the shuriken out of her leg, clutching the wailing Maru tighter with the other hand and taking a step back.

"Follow me."

This time, he did nothing to hide his surprise. His head turned back to her, eyes roving over her and Maru in a scrutinizing stare. At another spike of chakra and killing intent, Temari felt an equally rising sense of urgency to escape and ran a few steps ahead. She paused long enough to throw a sharp demand over her shoulder.

"Are you coming or not?"

He wavered only a moment before taking her up on the offer, following from behind as she sprinted around the patch of land, avoiding the areas lit up by flaming houses. She led him all the way back to the burnt remains of her hideout, her breath rushing out of her in relief when she found the floorboards smoking but extinguished.

Giving a quick onceover to her surroundings to ascertain the area was devoid of shinobi, she lifted the cellar doors and gestured for him to get in. He didn't acquiesce right away, instead turning his gaze to the rotting corpse and the razed ruins. Temari stared, startled, as the corpse, floorboards, brick, and even the cellar doors melted away before her eyes, taking on the appearance of the surrounding grass and dirt.

Genjutsu, she realized. Anyone stumbling upon the place would now see it as nothing more than a patch of land.

As soon as the illusion was cast, he turned towards the doors and entered, descending the steps and emerging into the pitch black basement. She bounded down the steps after him and pulled the doors closed with a loud clatter. The latch was flimsy and rusted, but she still slammed it shut and backed away, her breaths harsh in the darkness.

Maru squalled against her, driving up her hackles as her nerves hummed with nervous energy and the endorphins rushed to numb the pain of her injuries. Trembling, she searched through the flaps of her jacket until she found her pocket flashlight, finally turning it on after not daring to for four weeks.

He stood silent and unmoving in the corner, watching her as she stumbled around and knocked over some of the furniture, filling the dark space with the clang of falling metal as the infant screamed against her chest.

Finally, she found what she was looking for. The soft, amber glow of candlelight gradually diffused over their surroundings as she lit them, her shaking hands visible in the quivering shadows.

When the room was finally lit enough to see by, she lit another candle for herself and turned around. Itachi was standing at the other end, watching her; his eyes lowered to the wound in her leg. She turned around before he could do something absurd like apologize and moved away to search for her medical kit. A minute later, with Maru still wailing in the sling, she limped into the washroom with the candle and kit and slammed the door shut behind her.

The space was tiny and claustrophobic, only magnifying the sounds of Maru's terrorized cries and her strained breaths. Setting the candle down and sticking her flashlight between her teeth, she sank onto the edge of the toilet. She set Maru on the floor, trying and failing to tune him out as she tugged down her pants to treat the wound. Her movements were jerky and rough, nerves frayed as she struggled to suture the shuriken wound and the slit above her navel.

It took her twenty-five minutes to get it done and another fifteen to disinfect and wrap the injuries. She pulled her clothes back on despite the blood, retrieving Maru from the floor.

Then she just sat there in the near dark, forehead pressing into the door as she wondered what she'd gotten herself into.

* * *

Thirty-four days, sixteen hours and twenty-eight minutes before the purge began, she and her team had managed to seal the Third Raikage with Naruto's aid. They'd sent off a status report to headquarters and HQ had been quick in getting back.

The intel came while members of the fourth division were recovering from the struggle to seal the Second Mizukage, the group taking turns to surround and thank the sheepish Naruto clone.

Temari smirked at the sounds of adulation and Naruto's poor attempts at modesty. She was sitting in one of the tents supplying first aid materials, taking a breather as Gaara conversed with the messenger outside.

He entered a moment later, accompanied by the Naruto clone and the noise of the division trailing after him. The flap fell closed and the voices fell into a lull, carrying more confidence than they had in days. Temari reclined against a trunk of medical supplies, watching as Gaara moved over to the table to inspect the map and Naruto beamed in awe.

"Look at you being all Kazekage-y," the blonde grinned, a note of admiration in his voice as Gaara managed a faint smile in response. "What'd you hear?"

Gaara studied the map a moment longer before turning to face them.

"HQ has been updated about our situation. They informed me the other sealing teams are doing well and Kankuro and his team managed to seal two of the Akatsuki on their own."

Temari rolled her eyes good-humouredly. "Great. Now we'll never hear the end of that."

Gaara didn't respond, but there was a slight quirk in his lips that told her he agreed. Next to him, Naruto had suddenly gone silent, blue eyes troubled as he looked between the two of them.

"Did you say Akatsuki?"

Gaara turned to him. "Yes. Akasuna no Sasori and Deidara of Iwagakure."

He gave no indication that the names meant anything, but Temari knew her brother far better than most. The calm set of his features and relaxed stance bespoke his relief, as well as his pride, in Kankuro's triumph over the two who'd defeated him once before.

So both she and Gaara were visibly taken aback by the tense look that suddenly passed over Naruto's face. He looked unsure about something.

"What is it?" Temari prompted.

Naruto's mouth thinned into a grim line. "There's another one of them out there. An Akatsuki. He's..." he trailed off, sounding hesitant. "You can't seal him."

Temari exchanged a wary look with Gaara. "Why? Is he that powerful?"

Naruto's eyes darted around as though to check for eavesdroppers before he took a step closer and spoke in an undertone. "No, he's on our side. He broke out of the Edo Tensei's control and now he's gone to deal with the guy who started it."

Temari stared at him, disbelieving. "It's impossible to break out of the Edo Tensei. And since when is anyone from the Akatsuki on our side?"

Naruto appeared flustered, opening his mouth to speak until Gaara interrupted.

"Of whom do you speak?"

He looked at them both, voice solemn. "Uchiha Itachi."

The silence that followed persisted for a full ten seconds. Temari managed to tear her dumbstruck gaze away from Naruto and turned to Gaara, who was regarding the blonde with a furrowed brow.

"How do you know this?"

"I talked to him," Naruto admitted. Upon seeing their expressions of disbelief, he quickly tried to explain. "It's not as crazy as it sounds. You see, the thing is—"

He cut himself short, suddenly, as though remembering the entire subject was taboo. He looked more reluctant than ever before, the struggle obvious in his features as Temari and Gaara looked on in expectation.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it..." he wavered, glancing at the tent flap again before looking at them with resolve. "But we don't have much time. If he's gonna help us win this thing, you guys are gonna need to trust him."

He took a deep breath. "The truth is..."

* * *

Temari squeezed her eyes shut tighter, head swimming with nausea and dizziness. The memory seemed so old to her, so vibrant and optimistic compared to the perpetually dark, monochromatic world she lived in now.

Her new world was red. Even during the day, with its disguise of blue sky and golden sun, red, red, _red_. Anything else was an illusion.

Gradually, Maru's cries brought her out of her reverie, eliciting a wince as the sound made her aware of the pain coursing through her. Grimacing, she blew out the candle and slowly rose to her feet, bringing her hand to rest on the doorknob.

The thought of who waited beyond it made her hesitate, made her close her eyes again and retrace the memory as she'd done a hundred times before.

Uchiha Itachi. Broke Edo Tensei's control. Double agent. Sasuke's brother. Trustworthy. Akatsuki. _On their side._

If it hadn't been Naruto who'd told her, she would've laughed in his face and called him crazy. If it hadn't been Naruto, she would've kept running when she saw him, running until she collapsed if it could get her away from one of the few who'd killed Gaara.

But because it was Naruto, because he was Gaara's friend and had never done them wrong up until the moment he died, she forced herself to swallow her reservations and turned the knob.

The door swung open slowly with a creak of hinges, the sound followed by Maru's muffled cries and her shuffling steps as she emerged into the dim room. He was sitting on the steps below the cellar doors, watching her with an inscrutable look on his face.

Temari ignored him, limping over to Maru's crib to put him to bed. Her shirt and pant leg were uncomfortably wet against her skin, adding to her shivers as she mumbled incoherent things to calm him and rubbed his back. The entire ordeal of the night along with his constant weeping must have exhausted him, for he fell asleep instantly, cheeks still glistening with tears.

She stood by him for several minutes, stroking his back and watching him breathe, a little comforted by the sight of his blissfully oblivious slumber. When she was certain he wouldn't wake, she eased her way back into the first room, dragging her bad leg.

The candles glowed brighter, having burned long enough to expose the wicks. They filled the dark corners with faint, flickering light, inciting drowsiness. Shaking away the daze, she made her way to one of the chairs near the laundry machine and sat down.

She stared directly at the dead man sitting across from her, holding his gaze despite the eerie flicker of his Sharingan in the candlelight.

They were silent for a while, considering each other. They knew who the other was, as well as what they were famous for. Their professions made certain of that. But they also knew there was much more to what was happening than what either of them was letting on. It was only a matter of who broke first. To her mild surprise, it turned out to be him.

"The child," he said, "where did you find it?"

Temari blinked slowly, somewhat marvelled by the smooth, steady cadence of his voice. By the sound of it, he seemed just as blissfully ignorant of the situation as the baby in the next room.

"Here," she responded. "Parents are probably dead. You saw the body outside."

He fell silent.

Temari let her eyes drift, taking in details of the room she hadn't noticed before. She didn't know how much to believe of what Naruto had told them. It seemed unfathomable that someone would go as far as he did for their village, let alone keep such a profound secret for such a long time. From what he'd mentioned, it became clear that Uchiha Itachi did not want anyone to know the truth.

But it was also becoming clear to him that she knew something she shouldn't have. The constant, penetrative scrutiny of his eyes made it obvious.

_Let him wonder_, she thought detachedly.

She would not make an effort to play along with the charade. Frankly, she didn't give a shit. But she found his staring to be quickly wearing on her patience, persisting until she finally bristled under the pressure and raised her head.

"What is it?"

He didn't answer right away, regarding her with a searching look. "Why do you trust me so easily?"

"Who said I trust you?" she retorted.

He fell silent again, but this time he leaned back against the steps with an expression of closure.

"You know."

"Yes," she stated simply.

He paused. "How much did he tell you?"

Temari gave him an incredulous look. "Does it matter?"

He said nothing.

Now it was her turn to return the scrutiny, and a hysterical sort of laugh bubbled up her throat when she realized Naruto had been telling the truth about his motivations.

"What? Is this about honour?" she said derisively. "The whole fucking world's in shambles and you're worried about _honour_?"

He gazed at her expressionlessly. But because the candlelight threw his features into relief, she thought she saw the imperceptible tensing of his throat and the flicker in his eyes.

Her features twisted and the smile slipped off. She turned her head.

Even for someone like him, the thought of having suffered, wasted away, and died for nothing was too much to bear. What did he have to hold onto besides the honour of his clan? He'd killed them to prevent the war and the war had happened anyway. He'd tormented his brother to spur him into seeking vengeance, only for his brother to go insane and turn against the village he'd been trying to protect in the first place, a village that probably didn't even exist anymore. And his brother, in all likelihood, like her brothers, was either one of the swarm, or another number added to the body count.

So what did he have, she asked herself bitterly, besides honour? What did he have to hold onto, besides old ghosts and secrets?

The same as her. The same as Maru.

_Nothing_.

The exceptional nature of his past, the immensity of his deeds, they all seemed like faded white noise in the background. Vague reminders of simpler times. Times of black and white. The crimes, the affiliations—they meant nothing now. And it was for that reason she wouldn't judge him on it. Nor would she trust him. Nor would they reminisce. They would just be.

In the back of her mind, the logical part of her wondered what their plan would be after this. Would he join her? Would he leave? Was she willing to let him stay? In her frazzled state, none of the questions were capable of answering. For now, the knowledge that he was untainted, and she was untainted, was enough.

She waited a little longer, staying to see if he would deign to mention any other information. He didn't, and asked no questions in return. She rose fifteen minutes later and wordlessly left for the other room.

As she closed the door and lowered herself onto the mattress, she finally became aware of the uncontrollable tremors wracking her frame. She reached out in the dark, groping around the floor next to the mattress until she found it. Curling her fingers around the hilt of the kunai, she drew it against her chest, holding to it and its comforting weight long after she fell asleep.

* * *

The pain of her stitches woke her late the next morning, throbbing sharply with her movement. Wincing, she shifted on the mattress, making several attempts to sit up without splitting the sutures. Her hand braced against her midsection as she slowly rose.

A dry, crackling sound filled the air, a grimace forming on her features when she realized it was the blood from the night before. Flakes of it fell down her back, drifting to the mattress from beneath her shirt. Her clothes were rigid with it.

Repulsed, she grabbed the spare white shirt and shorts from the armchair, hobbling off towards the door for the washroom.

When she opened it and stepped past the threshold, she stopped short.

He was gone.

Temari stared, blinking blearily at the empty stairs where he'd been sitting the night before. Hazy beams of sunlight filtered over the steps, highlighting the dark stains she'd left on the planks. She found herself oddly incapable of forming a reaction, feeling only a vague sort of disappointment that verged on apathy. Looking away from the steps, she made her way into the washroom.

After she'd brushed, washed up, and changed, she emerged with the intent to prepare Maru's feeding. He tended to be crabby if he didn't get his bottle first thing after waking up, and with that thought, she moved off towards the second room to get his formula. She stepped past the threshold and froze in the doorway.

Itachi was standing near the crib, gazing down at the sleeping infant.

Temari stared at him, temporarily paralyzed by the sight.

"Does he have a name?" he asked suddenly, without turning around.

She blinked, feeling her accelerated pulse slowly return to its normal tempo. She stood tense, watching him warily.

"I don't know. I just call him Maru."

When he didn't reply, she took a step forward, eyes narrowed.

"Where were you?"

"Outside," he replied, finally turning away from the crib to look at her. "Disposing of the corpse."

She relaxed a little at that but didn't like the way he was standing so close to the crib. He seemed to read the sentiment in her features and stepped away from it, heading back into the first room. Gathering the formula, she followed.

He meandered somewhere behind her as she prepared the bottle and set out a fresh diaper. Maru's muffled whine broke the silence a few minutes later and she decided she'd take the bottle and diaper with her. Maru was hardly tolerating of her to begin with; she wasn't sure how the child would react to the sight of Itachi.

When she emerged twenty minutes later, she found Itachi sitting on the steps again. He watched her as she methodically washed the empty bottle and discarded the dirty diaper in a plastic bag. Then she just stood there for a few seconds, staring blankly into the distance as her hands dripped by her sides.

A moment later, wind howled faintly over the floorboards and her shoulders slackened in relief. But her eyes remained sharp and alert, a hint to her unrelenting vigilance as she finally turned towards him.

"What were you doing there yesterday?"

One look at her narrowed eyes and grim expression told him she wouldn't take kindly to anything less than a straight answer. His reply was just as terse.

"Travelling east."

"Have you met anyone besides me who was unaffected?"

"No."

His answer gave her pause. Swallowing with difficulty, she tried to keep the waver out of her voice.

"How did you avoid the genjutsu?"

"I am immune."

She gave him a sharp look, only to feel it falter at the sight of his Sharingan staring impassively back at her. Of course, she thought, eyes trailing the black tomoe. He would be able to see through it.

She was mildly surprised when it was he who broke the silence this time.

"How did you?"

Temari thought over her answer. Had she been in the line of fire like everyone else, she doubted she would have avoided the first exposure. And even if she had, she would not have understood the mechanics of the genjutsu well enough to survive as long as she did. It all came down to the five days she'd spent trapped in the collapsed warehouse. Inexplicably, she felt like laughing.

"I had a learning opportunity," she said, lips twisting into a lopsided smile.

He must have heard the edge in her voice, because he dropped the subject. Instead, he looked at her once more with that subdued sort of surprise.

"I have travelled a hundred kilometres across the border. You are the first survivor I've met."

Temari didn't know how to react to that. As she let the news sink in, she felt several hints of something, little wisps of emotion leaching through the impenetrable shell of military decorum she'd crafted around her. With a clinical sort of detachment, she recognized the crushing nature of the words and the devastating loneliness spreading through her as a result.

It was starting to catch up with her. She looked down at her hands, confused. They were trembling again. Her wounds suddenly hurt, the stitches taking on the consistency of thorns. She flinched, bracing a hand to her midsection.

She was aware of him watching and turned away, taking a few deep breaths to steady her voice.

"Is there anything else?" she managed to say.

He was silent for a long moment. "You should rest."

"Is there?" she demanded desperately.

"No."

Temari lowered her head, eyes squeezing shut. Without another word, she shuffled back into the other room and closed the door behind her. Maru was sitting in his cot, quiet for once; he was playing with some of his stuffed animals, the sight holding her gaze because she couldn't remember ever putting them in there.

She lay back down on the mattress, not sure if she'd sleep, but acutely aware that she had the pressing need to block out all stimuli. Her head felt swollen, temples throbbing beneath the pressure. Reaching up, she placed her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, willing herself to rest and not rise until she no longer felt as though she was on the verge of slipping off some unnameable edge into the abyss.

* * *

Several hours later, after laying Maru down for his nap and finding herself incapable of enduring her parched throat any longer, Temari finally emerged from the room. She found Itachi sitting near the brightest patch of sunlight, studying the map she'd left out. She spared him a look and went to refill her water bottle.

As it filled, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him trace a fingertip over the trajectories she'd marked down on the border with little X's.

"They're the places I've scouted," she said. "There's nothing there."

He lowered the map, dropping his hand back to his side. "I assumed as much."

She took a long drink of the water, eyeing him over the rim of the bottle. "Where've you travelled?"

In response, his fingertips settled once more on the map, tracing south from the middle of Lightning to the border with Frost. Her eyes widened fractionally when he indicated two-thirds of the length of the border, moving eastward. It was with a calm sort of desperation that she hoped he hadn't yet travelled to the western coast, her next destination as soon as she figured out a way to get there without getting herself killed.

He took the adjoining pen and uncapped it, moving it over the map. Temari watched with an increasing sense of dissociation, feeling like she wanted to vomit as he methodically marked X's over all the dead zones he'd passed through.

Three. Six. Seven. Nine.

"Wait," she said suddenly, voice smothered when the pen hovered over the path leading to the west. "You've been to the coast?"

He paused a moment. "No."

"That's my next target."

He lowered the pen and finally looked at her. "You can't go there."

Temari felt her heart double its tempo and sweat seep into the lines in her palm. "Why not?"

He said nothing.

"_Why not_?" she demanded.

"There is a large group of shinobi moving southeast from that direction."

The silence that followed that statement verged on oppressive. Temari found herself mouthing wordlessly for several seconds, voice smothered by an emotion she couldn't place.

"What did you say?" she said faintly.

"A large group," he repeated, "moving southeast from the western coast towards this plateau."

"How many?"

His response was nonchalant. "Several hundreds."

"Were they—?"

"I did not wait to find out."

Temari suddenly recognized what that burgeoning emotion was and found herself having to beat it down to stop herself lunging forward and strangling the impassive look off his face. Brimming with rage, she refrained from punching him for being a lying son of a bitch and instead turned away, striding into the next room.

When she returned, she was carrying her equipment and fan and was heading straight for the cellar doors.

Itachi's gaze followed her, his voice taking on a note of sharpness. "Where are you going?"

She came to a sudden stop in front of the stairs, turning towards him.

"I've been alone for _thirty-three_ days," she seethed. "My brothers might be dead. My entire _division_ might be dead. If there's anyone out there with information, I need to find them."

He stared at her, taking in the volatile emotions streaking across her face. His tone softened.

"That is suicide."

The quiet reprimand made her realize he'd withheld the information from her for this very reason. She could see the rationale in what he was saying. Perhaps thirty-three days ago, she would have even agreed with him. But the thought of a hundred strong untainted shinobi passing right over her because she was too busy erring on the side of caution was a mistake she couldn't afford to make.

"I'll be back before sundown," she announced.

With that, she turned her back to him, making it onto the first step when she felt his hand seize her wrist. Her control snapped. She whirled with her right fist clenched and he caught it inches from his face, dark eyes meeting hers in all their impenetrable, unshakable calm.

Temari squeezed her eyes shut to stop him trapping her in a genjutsu and lashed out with her leg. He let go of her arm and blocked the kick, throwing himself out of the way of a haphazard blow of her fan.

She knew it was pointless to fight him with her eyes closed but refused to let herself be taken in by those wretched eyes, the same goddamned eyes of that goddamned clan that had been the cause of all this mess in the first place.

She heard him to the left of her and lashed out with her fan again, only to feel it get kicked out of her grip. He grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides and forcing her up against the wall. She stilled momentarily, eyes screwing shut at the sound of his voice next to her ear.

"Stop."

She wrenched her head in the other direction, chest heaving. He didn't release her, soundless and cold as a wraith. He smelled of ashes and dead leaves.

"Let go of me," she bit out.

"Will you run?"

It infuriated her that the question made her feel like a reckless child being berated by a parent.

"_No_."

Slowly his arms slackened and she stepped out of his grip. Then she turned around and punched him as hard as she could. The blow sent him staggering to the other end of the room, doing nothing to assuage her anger because he'd allowed her to do it.

She felt compelled to strike him again, to shake him by the shoulders and scream that he had no idea what she'd been through. But because she'd never been one to lose her head, she forcibly choked down the rage and let it wither into revulsion and contempt, the feelings spurred by the sight of papery flakes floating through the air and resealing the split in his lower lip.

Livid, she stormed past him into the next room, slamming the door behind her. The sound woke Maru with a start, and as she slid down the length of the door onto the floor, his quiet whimpers escalated into crying. Temari laid her forehead against her knees, closing her eyes and ignoring the cries.

In the backs of her eyelids, she saw flashes of afterimages, tiny X's blossoming over the expanse of her map like a virulent disease. She closed her eyes tighter, gritting her teeth. The western coast was all she had left, the only place capable of reaching in a day's time before the sun sank and the red blanketed the night. It couldn't be lost. It just couldn't.

She raised her head, gaze falling on the chart of moon phases she'd drawn and pinned to the opposite wall. Tonight was the second last night of the waning crescent. On June 22, she would have what she'd been waiting twenty-nine days for; the night of the new moon. If there was ever a time to make an extended excursion to search for her brothers, it would be then.

When she'd sat there long enough and managed to calm down, the sound of Maru's miserable cries broke through the fog and she felt a wave of guilt wash over her. Rising, she made her way over to his crib and drew him out, holding him securely against her chest even if the gesture gave him no comfort.

"We'll be all right," she muttered to him, patting him on the back and carrying him over to the chart. "Look..."

Taking his tiny hand in her own, she stretched it out to the date of June 22 and the dotted lines representing the new moon. He quieted at the feel of paper sliding beneath his fingers, raising his head to look at the image she was tracing his hand over.

Eventually she released his hand, watching him as he explored the drawing on his own, fingernails scratching lightly over the paper. Listening to his soft, hitching breaths, Temari tenderly brushed his tears away. She pressed her temple to the side of his head, willing the pressure to disappear.

"I promise we'll be all right."

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when she finally came out of the room. The sunlight had visibly dwindled, dimly glazing the furniture in the laundry room. Itachi had moved back to his spot in the brightest patch of light, chin propped up on his laced fingers. He seemed to be deep in thought.

Temari strode over until she was standing right in front of him, her frame blocking the light. He looked up at her without moving his head, mouth hidden behind his knuckles. Without preamble, she held the map out to him.

Unlacing his fingers, he slowly took it, lowering his gaze to the X's as she pointed at their position.

"What you said before, about the group moving southeast from the coast. If it's true, I won't have to travel that far."

At his questioning look, she tapped the coastline and elaborated.

"The shinobi you saw might have been the first division. They were the mid-range fighters, stationed at the western coast to handle attacks from the sea. If they're the ones travelling southeast, they'll be following the Hashima Corridor to get here."

She paused, lowering her hand. "We can meet them halfway. If we leave now, we can reach the wheat fields in about an hour."

He remained silent, considering her proposal. Temari stared at him, wondering what he could possibly have against the idea of scoping the area for survivors, but then she saw the dim light glint off his black sclera and pale skin and understood.

The first division had been composed predominately of Konoha shinobi. Even if they turned out to be survivors and took her and Maru into the group, she doubted they would react well to the sight of a resurrected traitor in their midst. Her optimistic hopes were no comfort to him. In fact, he was better off not accompanying her at all.

Temari hesitated, fingers curling by her sides. "If you come, I'll vouch for you."

He said nothing. But then he raised his head to look at her, eyes calm and assessing. "Do you trust me enough to do such a thing?"

She remained expressionless, refusing to answer the question. "Naruto said you were on our side."

"Did you believe him?"

"I trusted his judgment," she replied. "That was enough."

They looked at each for a few seconds longer. Then Itachi suddenly folded the map and stood up.

"Very well."

Satisfied, Temari moved back into the next room to gather her things, assuring herself they would only be gone two hours at most as she swaddled Maru tightly in the blanket and placed him in the sling. It was the only thing capable of giving him comfort and she stood there long enough to stroke his back and lull him to sleep before returning to the front room.

She noticed Itachi's eyes flit briefly to the sling, but he didn't comment and moved up the steps towards the doors. Temari waited with baited breath as he stepped outside first, scoping the area. When no sound was forthcoming, she took it as an invitation to follow and ascended the steps, mindful to not jar the slumbering bundle against her chest.

When she reached the top, she glanced at the ruins behind her, still mesmerized by the flawlessness of the genjutsu and the way the doors blended seamlessly into the rocks and grass. Taking the handle, she let the doors fall shut with a hollow thud. The impact sent dust billowing into the air, the clouds gusting over their ankles as they turned from the hideout and looked toward the horizon.

The sky was a vibrant, electric blue, streaked with alto-stratus clouds. The sun burned bright overhead and soft winds swept over them, cajoling the surrounding plant life into movement. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of summer.

Illusory.

When she opened her eyes, she found Itachi watching her expectantly over his shoulder. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she nodded and fell into step beside him.

They began walking west.

It was an unspoken rule that they forge their route through the lowlands, away from the flat plains and burned out houses. As they made their way towards the incline leading to the ravine, Temari swept her gaze over the landscape.

Vultures circled low around the burnt out houses in the distance, the dirt roads empty and silent. She caught bursts of colour—summer flowers clustering, unblemished, near the skeletal structures. A few yards ahead, a corpse lay at the side of the road, buzzing with flies. Her eyes stayed trained on it until they entered the ravine and it sank out of sight.

Neither of them spoke for the first half hour, focusing their energy instead on keeping a constant watch on their surroundings. A brook bubbled a few metres to the left of them, prompting Temari to strain her ears for anything beyond the sounds of gently sloshing water.

They saw and heard nothing, the serene susurrations of the landscape only heightening their alertness. From the lowlands, she could make out thin trails of smoke tapering into the blue sky. Occasionally she caught gusts of wind carrying the scent of scorched wood, the aroma pleasant until it curdled abruptly with the stench of burnt plastic and decay.

Maru stayed silent, sleeping soundly against the warmth of her chest. She pressed a hand against his back every now and then, reassuring herself as much as she was reassuring him.

They walked another half hour in silence until the ravine began the incline back up, leading to another plateau that she knew would be overlooking the endless expanse of wheat fields signalling the turn towards the western front. It would be a six-hour journey to reach the coast from there, a journey she could hopefully avoid if what Itachi said was true.

She found herself unconsciously praying that it was, lips mouthing wordlessly and repeatedly as they slowly ascended their way out of the ravine. Before they could start the climb at the base of the plateau, Itachi suddenly came to a stop and tilted his head towards the top.

Temari stopped next to him, senses jumping on high alert. She placed a hand on the base of her fan.

"Do you feel that?" he murmured.

She followed his gaze, suppressing her own nervous energy to tune into the air around her. A moment later, she felt it; faint stirrings of chakra. From the convoluted web she was picking up, it had to be stemming from several sources crammed close together; shinobi in formation.

She looked quickly towards Itachi, hopeful.

His eyes drifted aimlessly over the air in front of him, brow furrowed slightly in concentration. After a while, he resumed their ascent towards the plateau. Temari kept close behind, her heart rate mounting with every step as it brought her closer to the increasingly strong currents of chakra reaming the air.

It steadily grew in concentration, doubling and tripling in intensity until she was positive it was stemming from at least a hundred people. By the time they reached the top edge of the plateau, she had to restrain herself from running to the other end. Her heart continued hammering in her chest as Itachi slowly led the way across the top, the flat rock extending for nearly half a kilometre before they began nearing the opposite edge.

Temari breathed short, shallow breaths, overwhelmed by the immensity of chakra and the unmistakable sounds of footfalls moving in formation somewhere below. Next to her, Itachi gave no indication of what he was feeling, staring stoically ahead and moving with measured strides. Nearly sick with anticipation, she smothered her chakra and finally made it to the lip of the overhang.

The surrounding vista spread out from beneath their feet, cloud-streaked sky giving way to miles of farmland and hillside. On the horizon, a vague blue line signalled the start of the sea.

Temari lowered her eyes and felt her breath catch in her throat.

The foremost field was teeming with shinobi; hundreds upon hundreds of them marching east in the direction they'd just left. It only took her a moment to realize she was staring at more than half the first division. Her knees buckled, a soundless noise of relief escaping her lips. She took a step closer, searching the crowd frantically for a glimpse of her brothers.

She took another step closer, about to take yet another when Itachi's voice cut the air.

"Don't move."

Temari stopped, turning her head towards him. He remained motionless, gazing out at the multitude. When his eyes suddenly narrowed, Temari whipped her head back towards the field below, freezing at the sight.

Every single one of them had stopped, their heads raised towards the two dark figures silhouetted against the sky. No voices rang out. Nobody fell out of formation. The air was completely still.

The change of emotion coming over her was like being doused in ice water. Her lips parted, the colour draining from her face. Beside her, Itachi made no reaction besides the tensing in his shoulders. Another moment's silence. And then they suddenly exploded into movement, plunging towards the base of the plateau and sprinting up the rock wall.

Temari reeled back in shock, automatically unsheathing her fan.

_All of them. They were all..._

"Get away from the edge," she found herself saying, voice unrecognizable to her own ears. "Right now."

She hardly gave him time to comply before she swung her fan around in an arc and unleashed a tempest down the side of the rock face. The force blasted rocks out of the craggy overhang, sending them plummeting towards the ascending shinobi.

The gusts caught their targets head on, blowing them clear off the rock and sending them crashing to the ground below. Undeterred, others leapt on in their place, racing towards the top.

She unleashed another violent gust of wind the same instant Itachi knelt beside her, forming a rapid set of seals. He pressed his hand onto the ground. Thick, black sludge erupted from the crevices in the rock face, encasing the climbers and impeding the others.

It became blindingly obvious, very quickly, that they could not throw off the throng as fast as they were recovering, not with the sheer number racing their way towards them. Temari snapped her fan shut and sprinted away from the edge, pressing a hand tightly against Maru when he whimpered at the jarring movement.

Within seconds, a dozen shadows leapt up on the ground in front of her and she spun around with the fan. A burst of lacerating wind knocked three of them off the edge, bringing the rest to their knees with severe cuts. They staggered upright seconds later, continuing their relentless sprint forward, only to be mowed down by the wall of flame Itachi released next. The explosive fireball sent another six tumbling off the edge, the loss replenished by twenty more.

Desperate, Temari bit her thumb and swiped it across her fan, flinging Kamatari forward and using the swing from her momentum to blow off the group rising to the left of her. The tornado-force winds knocked three-quarters of them off the rock face, the rest cut down by the spinning scythe as Temari turned and raced in the opposite direction.

In her periphery, she saw the scythe slice through an Iwa nin, sending him collapsing to the ground in two pieces. Fear seized at her throat, cutting off her air when he dug his nails into the dirt, vehemently dragging his torso forward until he succumbed to blood loss.

Flames erupted continuously behind her, punctuated by the sharp crack of stone splitting as the tainted retaliated, driving up spikes of rocks to impale them. In the midst of her sprint, Temari spun around periodically to blow away the enemies bearing down on her, barely able to keep them at bay.

As she whirled around and blew another gust to knock three of them off their feet, she caught sight of one of the figures vaulting into the air, her movements hauntingly familiar as she unfurled her scrolls and snatched up the weapons summoned from them.

Temari felt a weight drop into her stomach when she recognized who it was. The kunoichi she'd fought at the chuunin exams. Tenten.

The girl had already fired no less than twenty shuriken at her before Temari could even complete the last arc of her swing. There wasn't enough time for a rebound.

She felt her stomach lurch. _I can't dodge._

Her reaction was instinctual. Enveloping Maru to her chest, she whirled around in the dirt and hunched over, squeezing her eyes shut in preparation for the impact. The sounds of shuriken striking flesh resounded dully in her ears, driving the breath out of her. When she didn't register pain, her head snapped up in surprise and she glanced behind her.

Her gaze met Itachi's, her lips parting in shock when she realized he'd thrown himself in front of them and taken every hit in the back. Nothing in his expression told her he'd felt it, and her eyes widened fractionally when he gave her a pointed look to stay down.

Something in his eyes suddenly changed. The tomoe spun, melding into a completely different shape as spider-like blood vessels rose in his sclera and he turned his head to look over his shoulder.

Black flames erupted along the fault line. Several of the shinobi ran through it, heedless, continuing the pursuit even as their flesh blistered and clothes burned away. Itachi rose and moved off towards them, throwing a single command over his shoulder.

"Run."

She didn't need to be told twice. Bracing Maru against her chest, she scrambled off the ground and threw herself into a sprint without looking back. As she left them behind, the shadow of something massive fell over her, accompanied by the crackle of flames. Ghostly, rutilant light diffused across the plateau, followed by a surge of chakra that sent a ripple through her blood.

Her breath caught in her throat. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she caught sight of Itachi walking straight into the horde, enshrouded in some immense, skeletal thing. Temari quickly tore her gaze away, screams and howls following her as the shinobi began succumbing to the flames.

She ran the rest of the way without looking back, not daring to take to the sky in daylight. She ran until she tasted blood in the back of her throat, till the sharp sting of her stitches faded along with the feel of her footfalls and she was running simply to the beat of her feet striking the earth.

She reached the hideout in half the time it took them to reach the wheat fields, finally bringing herself to slow down and whip her head around to see if she'd been followed. A hoarse noise of relief burst out of her when she found the surrounding landscape barren. Maru's quiet whimpers escalated in volume now that she'd stopped the tumultuous ride back, his movements growing fitful within the sling as she dropped to her knees and searched blindly for the cellar doors.

Her palms brushed over burnt wood and brick even though she touched what looked like grass. Then her palm struck metal and she seized it, flinging it open and throwing herself down into the darkness. It was only when she was inside and had slammed the door shut, only when she'd barricaded herself in the next room and Maru finally burst into wails, that she dared pry her hands off her fan.

* * *

The hours slipped by.

She meandered about the basement, tending to Maru and taking to completing inane tasks to refrain from dwelling on the soul-crushing realization that the western coast, along with the first division, had been entirely lost. It would come to her later, she was sure of it. But she couldn't afford to think on it now, not when her brain was buzzing with thoughts on what she would do next and what had happened to Itachi.

She was not worried, exactly. It wasn't like he could die again. But when the day turned to dusk and the first smattering of stars appeared on the horizon, she felt the lead weight of anxiety bear down on her gut.

Had they managed to seal him? Or maybe he'd left after fighting them off. He had no obligation to stay, and it was no doubt company like hers and Maru's would only serve to burden him.

At that, she tried to school her emotions into apathy and acceptance of what was probably true. What need did a dead missing-nin have for a stranded kunoichi and an infant? She insisted vehemently to herself that he would not be back, resigned herself to the fact he had no reason to. Yet despite this, she could not loosen her fists or stop the nervous shaking of her leg.

Night fell. Maru lay asleep in the back room, exhausted after the harrowing trip. Temari stayed awake, keeping her spot near the furnace despite the burning in her eyes. Through the cracks in the doors, the weak red light of the waning crescent bled over the steps, flickering every now and then behind passing clouds.

It was incredibly still outside.

Then, about forty minutes later, the silence was broken by the sounds of footsteps treading floorboards overhead.

Temari froze, listening. They were slow and unsteady, dragging over the wood. The creaks they sent resonating through the basement sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

She jumped to her feet, seizing her fan before moving to stand adjacent to the cellar doors. The steps came to a stop, her heart jumping into her throat when the tip of a kunai appeared between the latch and the jamb and flicked it open.

One of the doors creaked open and the breath rushed out of her in relief when Itachi stepped through it. His head was lowered and there were rips marring his cloak, the point of the kunai steadily dripping blood onto the stairs. Her arms instinctively flew up to steady him when he staggered down the steps.

She reached up to close the door behind him, sliding the lock into place. Then they were silent, looking at each other in the dark. The faint sound of dripping blood snapped her out of her reverie and she draped one of his arms around her shoulders, helping him into the next room and to the mattress. She eased him onto his front, pausing momentarily at the sight of his opaque, unfocused eyes and the tracks of blood congealing beneath them.

Leaving him there, she went to search for her medical kit. A part of her acknowledged that there was no need for it. But the sight of a dozen shuriken embedded in his back, along with the copious amounts of blood, elicited an automatic response to get it anyway. She was not used to being helpless. The pretence of getting the kit would at least give her the illusion that she wasn't.

He was motionless when she got back, frighteningly so. She almost wanted to laugh when she stopped a few feet away from him, struck with the sudden notion that he'd died. But when she saw his head turn slightly to look up at her, she felt her throat loosen and let herself breathe again.

She knelt by his side and set a candle nearby, the firelight glinting off the serrated metal protruding from his back. She opened the kit, reaching for a pair of suture pliers.

"What happened?" she finally asked.

"There were too many," he replied wearily as she began extracting the shuriken. "I tried to incapacitate them, but they are mindless. They don't feel fear or pain."

She didn't ask him to elaborate after that. Seeing him return in such a state when he was practically immortal made her wonder what sort of hellish experience the untainted shinobi were in for, if there were any left at all. She sucked in a breath at that, focusing on the task at hand to stop her thoughts venturing where she did not want them to go.

There was a faint clink as she dropped the seventh shuriken into the pile. She looked at him this time, torn between a misplaced sense of relief and her inherent misgivings. Tightening her jaw, she refrained from looking at the blood and kept her voice carefully neutral.

"Does it hurt?"

He closed his eyes. "I feel nothing."

As difficult as that was to believe, she saw the truth simply in the way his voice remained steady and muscles lax. He gave no indication that he felt the metal twisting around in his flesh. She reflected it was probably why he'd walked off the rib-shattering blow of her fan and let her hit him earlier that day. She dropped another one into the pile.

"You have to feel something," she muttered.

He was silent for a moment. Looking at him, she realized it wasn't so much because he was reticent to answer as he was trying to find a way to put it into words.

"Impact," he said at last. "Friction. Weakness...tremors..."

Her brow furrowed. "I thought the Edo Tensei meant limitless power."

"No technique is limitless," he responded, detached. "Everything has a weakness."

She pondered this, reflecting on the battle with the Third Raikage and how his movements had grown sluggish after a while. She'd assumed it was all in her head, a result of battle fatigue, but when Naruto had felled him with nothing more than a regular rasengan, the thought held a bit more credence.

Temari looked him over critically. "How long will your condition last?"

"Six to eight hours."

He didn't react when she tugged up his cloak to inspect the damage, a grimace forming on her face at the sight of papery slips of skin resealing the mutilated flesh of his back. Within seconds, the punctures were completely healed over, leaving no scars save for the blood caking his skin.

That was the easy part, she supposed, unsettled by the grey tint to his flesh. Recovering his chakra and eyesight was probably more complicated.

Itachi did nothing to show he felt her ministrations, staring unfocusedly into the mattress as she let her hand descend upon his back. She cringed the instant she touched him, goosebumps dotting her arms. It was literally like touching a corpse. Granted, he was a corpse, but there was an alarming dichotomy between the feel of his flesh and the fact that he was walking around and talking. It was an idea she was having trouble getting her head around.

"Pressure," he said suddenly.

She paused, looking at him questioningly.

He blinked, eyes growing half-lidded. "I feel pressure."

Then she realized her hand was still resting against the small of his back and promptly drew it back to her side. She pulled his cloak down over him and packed away the medical kit, only to stop midway and pull out a pack of antiseptic wipes.

"Turn onto your back."

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She said nothing, merely gesturing for him to do as she'd asked. He did, turning over carefully and lowering his eyes.

She looked over the streaks of dried blood. "Can you see?"

They slid closed. "Barely."

"I'm going to clean that up."

He opened his eyes again, surprised by the feel of the damp cloth settling onto his face. The powerful scent of alcohol saturated the air.

"You don't have to."

"It's unsightly," she said, already working to wipe the blood away. "You'll scare Maru."

At that, he fell silent, watching her blurry, indistinct form for a little while before his eyes drifted shut again. She finished a minute later and balled the soiled wipe.

"Thank you," he said.

She stared at him. With his eyes closed and his colourless features fixed in a serene expression, he really did look dead. For some reason it frightened her, undermining all her self-assurance in a heartbeat. It presented her the thought that she really was alone to fend for herself and Maru, a prospect she could no longer handle as she took in the battered ghost in front of her. Without him, they would not have returned alive.

Swallowing hard, she averted her eyes. "It's fine."

Then she rose to her feet, looking down at him. The lead weight in her stomach was gone, replaced by only a vague sense of unease. At the same time, she couldn't deny the other feeling welling up inside of her, the one that felt like relief—almost comfort—at the thought that she wasn't alone anymore. She should have left him, then, but she could not stop herself asking.

"Why did you come back?"

He didn't answer right away, instead letting his eyes drift aimlessly over the shadows playing on the wall. He did not seem the type to go off spouting platitudes, and knowing his history, she felt that what he said next, as quiet and weary-sounding as it was, came from a more personal place.

"Because one can't do everything on their own."

She looked at him a little while longer. "Rest," she said eventually. "I'll sleep in the other room."

He didn't respond and she took her leave, taking enough time to put the kit away. She briefly considered bringing Maru with her to sleep in the armchair in the laundry room, but decided to leave the door open instead.

Dragging the chair to where she could have a clear view of the crib, Temari eased herself into the moth-eaten cushions and fell asleep instantly, head dropping onto her shoulder.

It was a blissful moment of reprieve, four or five hours of dark oblivion where she breathed freely and the constant furrow between her eyes receded. She would have liked to have had it last until morning, but then faint whimpers broke through the fog of unconsciousness and her eyes fluttered open.

It was still dark. When she raised her head, blinking groggily, she picked up Maru's fitful movements as he whined in his crib. Groaning, she dragged herself out of the chair and crept into the room, mindful of the presence on the mattress as she moved towards the crib.

She tried adjusting his position and rubbing his back to coax him back to sleep, doing her best to keep him quiet. The sudden glow of a candle lighting and Itachi's voice startled her.

"Tend to him."

She glanced over her shoulder. He was sitting up, back to the wall, looking and sounding as though he hadn't slept at all. He probably wouldn't, she realized. And probably couldn't.

Turning back to the crib, she lifted Maru out and decided to take him near the candlelight. It was a horrible mistake. The sight of Itachi sent him into hysterics. He started screaming, the sound bloodcurdling enough to wake the dead and convince her he'd suffocate on the force of his own grief.

Taken aback, she tried to remedy the situation by hurrying into the next room, but the gesture was futile. He cried as though his life depended on it, as though all the horrors he'd endured had finally culminated with the sight of the reanimated corpse sitting in the room and the only way to survive was to scream it out until he was breathless. His face was bright red, voice so raw and unearthly it sent shivers down her spine.

She struggled to silence him, changing him into a fresh diaper and trying to feed him. He flung the bottle away, wailing inconsolably. Temari stood up and took to pacing, shushing him and holding him against her shoulder.

"Stop," she whispered repeatedly, patting him on the back and circling the room. "Please, _please_ stop..."

But he wouldn't, releasing the piercing wails until her nerves were frazzled and she stood staring at him with a helpless sort of fury. In the next room, Itachi watched her struggle to pacify the screaming infant, taking note of the panic rising in her features as the sounds escalated to alarming levels. Rising, he came over to her. Temari saw him approaching and instinctively tightened her arms on Maru.

Taking note of her anxiety, he stopped a few feet away. When her wariness subsided long enough for her face to take on a questioning look, he raised his arms from his sides.

"Give him to me."

Temari stared at him blankly.

His voice was quietly assuring. "I won't hurt him."

She didn't move, eyes flitting over him appraisingly. She would have flat-out refused if she hadn't seen the way he'd thrown himself in the path of the shuriken, even if the gesture was compromised by his invulnerability. The fact that he'd done it at all was enough to erode some of her distrust.

Maru's voice cracked painfully next to her ear and she winced, gaze drifting to the cellar doors. No matter how convincing the genjutsu was, she knew the screeching cries would inevitably give them away. Desperate, she paused long enough to give the Uchiha a warning look, then reluctantly held him out.

He took him from her and she watched, apprehensive, as the wailing increased in volume and Itachi carried him over to a chair. He sat down and Temari's lips parted in shock when he turned the baby towards him, eyes suddenly gleaming red.

She took a step forward in disbelief. "What are you—?"

"I must," he interrupted, with a sort of finality that left her rooted in place.

Temari watched him with a rising sense of incredulity, positive that in his clan's illustrious history, this was the first time the Sharingan was being used on a baby. Gradually the crying ceased, ebbing into tired whimpers. Itachi merely held him there, gazing down at him as the hypnotic spin of his doujutsu lulled the child into a false sense of security.

Something about the scene felt inherently wrong, as though they were committing a crime on some level unpunishable by law; the sort that engendered vague unease and discomfort, and nothing more. But still he persisted, and eventually Maru was completely silent. To Temari's astonishment, the child laid his head against Itachi's chest and dozed off.

The Uchiha didn't react. He merely sat there, eyes fading back to black. His gaze settled on the other side of the room, distant and unfocused.

After several seconds of silence, Temari finally spoke, voice hushed. "What did you _do_?"

He didn't even blink, let alone look at her; he was still staring at some obscure point when he finally answered.

"He will not miss his parents anymore."

Temari felt her stomach drop. She pictured the body outside, buzzing with carrion flies, and imagined how precious it must have been when alive; how precious in the eyes of this miserable child, who looked at her and saw only memories of the people who loved him before his life had gone to hell.

To make him forget was merciful. But it was also horrible.

She lowered her eyes to Maru, taking in the way he lay, so open and vulnerable, in a dead man's embrace. His small arms were spread across the cold expanse of Itachi's chest, face nestled into the folds of his cloak. He gripped tiny fistfuls of the fabric.

An icy numbness swept through her. "Did you...?"

He finally looked at her and Temari could see the pall of a thousand years' weariness on his face. "We are no longer strangers to him."

He didn't go out and say it directly, but he didn't have to. Temari only had to look at the trust implicit in the baby's features and suddenly felt sick. It was far too easy to judge him when she hadn't carried out the decision herself, but she knew the situation too intimately to condemn him for what was both necessary and terrible.

Slowly, she made her way over to where he sat. Itachi lowered his gaze to the top of Maru's head as she stopped by his side, hovering near his shoulder. Then she dazedly sat down on the armrest.

They were both silent for a long time.

Next to her, Itachi sat as still and soundless as a stone. There was no rise and fall to his chest and no pulse beating within his veins. But she felt, knew, that somewhere inside that cold, unfeeling flesh, he was hurting.

Temari reached out and brushed downy tufts of hair from Maru's forehead, saying the only thing that could have comforted them in that moment.

"He wouldn't have remembered them, anyway..."

"No," Itachi agreed, gazing down at closed eyes that would soon, fallaciously, view two strangers as parents. "He wouldn't have."


	3. Chapter 3

Sky Runs Red

By: firefly

Note: You guys are amazing. Thank you so much to everyone for their reviews and patience. This was an incredibly difficult chapter to get done, mainly because of writer's block combined with burnout. And revision. Lots and lots of revision. Because goddamn it this chapter is HUGE. Won't say anything about the fic itself, because I definitely want what comes in subsequent chapters to be a surprise. Just know that trying to learn and incorporate all the technical details of the war is pretty much equivalent to prying out your own teeth. Anyway, please enjoy chapter 3, and remember that reviews are love!

Sky Runs Red ch.3

It was a struggle to breathe with the weight of the wall crushing her chest. Her fingers were numb and dust-coated, tingles prickling down her arm beneath the broken concrete. Another breath, and a cough threatened to break loose.

She clamped her jaw closed, eyes screwing shut at the burst of pain ricocheting through her chest. Outside, screams echoed in the distance. Her black niche was hot and suffocating, slowly killing her with its crumbling walls.

A shinobi stumbled and hit the ground in the distance, his nails coming away beneath the force of the tainted nin yanking him back over the ground.

_Please hold,_ she prayed, unaware that at some point, she'd started screaming to drown out the noise outside. _Please, please, please hold._

Her features twisted, jaw clenching so hard it hurt. When the walls crumbled and she saw the hand descend towards her, she burst out of her sleep half-panicked and delirious, screaming something incomprehensible. She stalled halfway out of bed when a hand gripped her shoulder.

She froze, expression slackening when she found herself staring up into the slowly spinning tomoe of Itachi's sharingan. Her fists slackened on the blanket, heart rate dropping to a mere lull. Her eyes grew half-lidded.

Then the hand gently pushed and she fell back into bed, only half-aware of the quiet voice resounding in the dark.

"Sleep."

She closed her eyes and didn't dream the rest of the night, unaware the incident had ever happened. When she woke the next morning, she found herself staring up at the ceiling of the second room. A beam of sunlight leached through a crack in the floorboards, warming a bright spot on the mattress.

Reaching out, she put her palm in the path of it, feeling comforted by the heat.

They'd retired sometime in the night after Maru had finally fallen asleep. Itachi had recovered enough to let her have the only bed, opting to remain in the first room. She raised her eyes to the closed door, wondering what he'd been doing every night since the day of his summoning.

The thought was disquieting. She chose not to dwell on it, instead rising to her feet to brush her hair and put it back up in its pigtails.

While she brushed, the silence was broken by the sounds of whimpers. Temari paused, staring in the direction of the crib. The effects of the genjutsu had left her dumbfounded the night before, but then it hadn't taken much to put the already exhausted infant to sleep. The question was whether the effects would permeate as deep as Itachi had said they would.

Uncertain, she approached the crib, taking a moment to steel herself before looking inside.

Maru was wide awake. He gnawed on his fingers, whining through them and kicking fitfully at his blanket. When her shadow fell over him, he raised his eyes and fell silent. She hesitated, searching his features for a reaction. When there was none, she reached down to lift him out, only to freeze midway when he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and smiled.

Temari's eyes widened. The smile grew the longer he looked at her, and eventually he emitted a low, gurgling noise that sounded starkly unfamiliar. Laughter.

It left her dazed and staring wonderingly in return. A moment later, she lifted him into her arms and propped him against her hip. He smiled up at her with familiarity, hands resting against her collarbone. Then he gurgled in what was unmistakably joy and buried his head in the crook of her neck, gripping fistfuls of her shirt.

Temari stood motionless, feeling something unfamiliar stir within her chest. Gently, she brought her hand to his nape and turned her face into the warmth of his cheek. He warbled contentedly in response.

After a few minutes, she turned and carried him towards the door.

Itachi was sitting in one of the chairs when she entered the first room. He raised his head when she stopped a few metres away. They spared each other a glance before looking expectantly at Maru, who'd ceased smiling the instant his gaze fell on the man across the room.

Maru stared at him for several seconds, not reacting. Then his face split into a grin.

Temari felt her shoulders slacken in relief and smiled reflexively when she noticed his two little teeth for the first time. Itachi rose from his seat, cautiously moving closer to gauge Maru's reaction. When no cries were forthcoming, he stopped just next to them.

Maru stared up at him, still smiling. Then he lurched away from Temari, holding out his arms. Shocked, she looked up at Itachi, catching the restrained surprise flitting across his features.

Maru strained for him again and Itachi's gaze shifted to her. Silently asking permission.

Wordlessly, she offered him up, letting her hands fall away when Itachi carefully took him under the arms and held him against his chest. A peculiar expression passed over his face as Maru excitedly kicked his legs and reached up, splaying his small hand over the cold curve of his jaw.

They were uncertain how long they stood there, familiarizing themselves with what was so fallaciously familiar to the child. His happiness and excitement were those which came with seeing a loved one again, and the realization made the smile fade from Temari's face.

She looked at Itachi to ascertain his reaction, finding his expression unreadable as Maru gripped his necklace and gazed peacefully, lovingly, into his dark eyes.

She swallowed hard and turned her head.

Moving away from them, she set about preparing his feeding. A few minutes later, she turned away from the laundry sink, prepared bottle in hand. The sight of Maru resting comfortably in Itachi's arms threw her for a loop all over again. For a moment she just watched them, trying to wrap her head around the incongruous image. Itachi noticed her watching and carefully set Maru on the floor. The boy caught sight of Temari standing a few feet away and took off crawling towards her, grabbing fistfuls of her pant leg and yanking imploringly.

Temari gazed down at him, subdued. "That was some genjutsu, Uchiha."

"The illusion is only as strong as the receiver's desire to believe in it," he said, watching her scoop him up. "It didn't take much."

She took him to the cellar steps and sat down, smiling weakly in response when he beamed up at her and curled his fingers around her sleeve. He gripped the bottle alongside her hand and pulled it to his mouth, continuing to gaze up at her as he drank.

Once he was full, he dropped the bottle and squirmed in her lap. Temari set him on the floor, watching him crawl away. The change in demeanour was remarkable. He took to exploring the room with wide eyes and bright zeal, unknowingly heading once more for the dark-haired man who'd cast the philtre in the first place. Despite herself, she found herself smiling again, if only for his sudden vivacity. Illusory or not, the change was nothing less than merciful.

She rose and took the next twenty minutes to tend to herself. She ate rationed portions of the preserves and washed up. When she turned off the faucets and raised her head, the sight of her reflection in the small mirror gave her pause. Her chin and neck were marred with scratches, her black military wear darker in some spots with dried blood. Rips and scuff marks frayed the cloth near the hemline and the sleeves, and a visible seam ran the length of the midsection where she'd sewn the tear shut.

Reaching up, she traced her fingertips over it. The fleeting peace of mind gradually vanished. Her limbs grew heavy with the weight of the situation she'd found herself in.

The west coast had been lost. She'd accepted it, even if the reality made bile rise in the back of her throat. She'd believed it unfeasible based on the strength of her own denial, denial she'd fostered and clung to through the hellish thirty days she'd spent alone. It was a testament to how much she'd come to rely on it, she thought, that she'd lost her head at the mere possibility of seeing an untainted face among the first division.

She felt nothing where she should have felt hot shame for her impulsiveness. Calmly, she recognized it as a symptom of unravelling at the seams.

"Don't lose it," she murmured. "Keep it together."

She employed the same calm monotone she used to ease the nerves of her subordinates on A-rank missions.

"The first plan failed...so we'll resort to plan B."

All the denial in the world couldn't have stopped her from forming a back-up plan on the off chance the west coast was lost. She'd planned it in the first two weeks after the purge, noting it in her agenda and storing it in the back of her mind. Reflecting on it now, she realized it was still a viable mission with the extended timeframe of the new moon.

Taking another minute to think it over, she set her features into a calm mask and stepped out of the washroom.

Itachi was sitting in the corner, keeping an eye on Maru. The rips in his cloak from the night before were gone. The fabric was seamless, removing the possibility he'd fixed it sometime in the night. She didn't know whether to be impressed or disturbed by the extent of Edo Tensei's regenerative abilities.

Moving over to him, she leaned against the adjacent wall and crossed her arms. "It's the last night of the waning crescent."

He kept his gaze on Maru. "I know."

"I was waiting for the new moon to travel to the west coast. But that's obviously out of the question now." She paused, waiting for a reaction. When there was none, she uncrossed her arms and straightened.

"We can't stay here. You do know that."

"Yes."

"What's your plan?"

His expression finally flickered, eyes sliding away from Maru. "I need to find my brother."

There was a moment of silence. Part of her expected him to reply with something along those lines; another part of her was struck by its brevity. He was a closed book to her; all bound seams and smothered emotion. It was almost unsettling to hear such a simple goal from someone so otherworldly, especially when it was so similar to hers.

"And if you do," she ventured after a while, "then what?"

His response was mechanic, as though he'd rehearsed it from the beginning. "Find other survivors and retaliate."

Nothing in his expression told her he believed this possible.

Without replying, she ventured over to her pack and drew out her map. She laid it flat on the sewing table and looked at him expectantly. He rose and made his way over, stopping next to her as she pointed down at their position.

"The new moon's the only chance we've got at making an extended search," she said, running her finger towards the eastern coast. "You were heading here before I intercepted you." She uncapped her pen, circling a small spot high up on the east coast. "You probably don't know this, but that's where the Allied Forces headquarters is."

She dropped her arm back to her side. "That's where the four other kages last were."

"You propose we travel there?"

She shook her head, pulling her eyes away from the target and looking lower. "It's impossible to make it there before the next waxing crescent, especially with the obstacles we have in our way. Instead..."

She pointed at a small star located northeast of their current location. "This is a military checkpoint. One of Kumo's strongholds. If there's a chance of finding survivors outside of HQ, this is it."

"It's a day's journey," he said, eyes narrowing slightly. "There's nowhere to stop in between."

"I thought so, too. But here," she tapped a dark, crescent-shaped area located just below the target. "There's a series of caves midway to the checkpoint. We can stop there."

He remained silent, looking over the map and considering her plan. Temari's expression grew grim. "There's nowhere else. If we stay here..." She didn't need to finish, knowing he understood when he straightened and looked at her.

Before he could speak, he felt a tug on the hem of his cloak and lowered his eyes to the sight of Maru on the floor next to him.

They both looked at the obliviously happy infant, sifting through the innumerable ways the plan could go awry. Temari knew he knew of the hazards. She waited for his answer, throat tight. Eventually, he averted his gaze and turned away.

"We'll leave tomorrow."

She nodded once, feeling neither relief nor gladness. If anything, her tension mounted at the thought of making her first extended journey in thirty days. Not even counting Maru, a part of her wondered if she could handle the mission.

The thought prompted her to slowly flex her fingers. She only had a day to prepare. It would take every bit of her peak strength to see her plan through.

Leaving the two in the first room, she departed into the other and closed the door. Then she dragged a chair to the centre and reached for the wooden beams overhead. When she found one that would support her weight, she grabbed onto it and hoisted herself up, kicking the chair out from beneath her.

Exhaling slowly, she started her daily regimen of pull-ups.

It was difficult to improvise forms of resistance and cardio training in such a cramped space, but she compensated through sheer repetition. By the end of the workout two and a half hours later, she was unbearably sticky and dripping sweat. The basement was comparatively cool to the scorching heat outside, but her skin burned where the beams of sunlight slithered through the cracks in the floorboards.

When she opened the door and stepped into the laundry room, she found Itachi poring over her maps again. He raised his head at her entry. In response, she looked pointedly at the laundry sink in the corner.

"I need a bath."

He wordlessly stood up and headed towards the cellar doors.

She blinked. "Where are you going?"

He spoke without turning around. "I'm going to scope the area."

She was taken aback. "But—"

He stopped on the steps, fingers curling around the door handles. "I won't be seen."

When no response was forthcoming, he lowered his head and pushed the door open.

Sunlight flooded the steps for a second and then he was gone, closing the doors behind him. Temari walked over to close the latch again, lingering there long enough to hear his footsteps fade away.

When they were gone, she tugged the sweat-stained shirt over her head and headed towards the laundry sink. Maru crawled after her, lingering about her legs as she divested herself of the rest of her clothing and waited for the bucket to fill. When she made to step inside, Maru squawked from his spot on the floor. She glanced down at him.

Slowly, a small, crooked smile came over her face. "I suppose it's time you got one, too."

* * *

He returned an hour and a half later. She didn't notice his presence, holed up in the second room and caught up in managing her fraying chakra control. She compared the struggle to tuning an old radio, verging on finding the exact point of perfect clarity but encountering static on both ends.

Her frustration resulted in a lapse of control, leaking a fair bit of chakra into the air.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

The soft curse was followed by the sound of a shoe scuffing the floor and she immediately opened her eyes.

Itachi stood in the doorway, watching her. Seeing the unspoken question in his face, she relaxed the hold on the swirling web of chakra and reined it in, letting the rest dissipate like smoke.

"Just something I'm working on," she explained, discomfited by her breathlessness. "Nothing big."

He didn't reply and she was somewhat humbled and a little annoyed that he could see exactly how much trouble she was having. She shifted so she was facing her pack and set about oiling her fan. Before she could uncap the bottle, she heard him take a few steps towards her.

"What is its purpose?"

She paused, holding the cap in her hand before slowly placing it back on the bottle. "To see in the dark."

He remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. Despite her aversion to giving away the secrets of her techniques, especially before she even had a chance to perfect them, she decided there was no point in keeping it hidden.

"I'm trying to manipulate the wind current around my body," she explained. "To pick up changes in air pressure."

He was perceptive enough to understand what that implied and gazed at her thoughtfully. "To create a sixth sense, of sorts."

She nodded. "I've been trying to get it right in time for the new moon, but..." she bit her lip, "my control's not where I want it to be."

He looked at her a moment longer, eyes appraising.

"Do it again."

"My chakra's—"

"Only for a moment."

Hesitant, but mollified with the assurance that it would only be a moment, she resumed her cross-legged position and closed her eyes. Very slowly, she eased her control on her chakra, feeling it seep over the surface of her skin. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, she flattened it as thin as possible, straining to mould it over the contours of her body. Once she was coated in the gently thrumming energy, she slowly added a spin to the currents.

Eventually she managed it, feeling her hair and clothes billow gently in the gusts, still all too aware of the chakra leaking from the air currents.

Itachi watched her, taking in the turbulent swirls of wind hovering above her skin and the ineffectual efflux still evaporating into the air. He nodded after a few seconds to let her know she could stop.

She did, releasing a breath as her hair and clothes drifted back into stillness. She looked at him expectantly as he remained silent for a moment.

"What you are attempting is difficult," he said after a while. "Manifesting your chakra in individual cyclones to cover your body—the technique is similar to Naruto's rasengan."

"Only on a much smaller scale," she supplied. And before he could ask, she continued, "I chose to manifest my chakra as cyclones because it compensates for the gaps I had when I did it streamlined."

"Yet you had better control over the former."

"Yes, but a gap isn't something I can see. I can't risk it."

"The way you are attempting it now is inefficient. Focus on the streamlined form." Her lips parted to protest, but he took a step into the room. "I will help you."

She was sure the reluctance showed on her features, but he did nothing to show he noticed it. Instead, he just watched her expectantly. Somewhat sceptical, she tried again, this time stopping at the stage of flattening and thinning her chakra over her body.

This form used only one-eighth of the chakra it took to form the cyclones, and she agreed it would be the manifestation of choice if only it provided complete cover.

"Stand up."

Surprise flickered over her face but she did as he asked, slowly rising to her feet. His eyes flicked over her form and he stepped closer. She noticed the kunai in his hand and grew tense in spite of herself. Her uncertainty ebbed a little when he held it out. Curious, she took it, wondering what he was doing when he circled her and came to a stop somewhere behind her.

"The back of your left knee, your right scapula, and the occipital region of your skull are uncovered."

Her eyes widened. "You can see the gaps?"

"Yes. Cover them."

She hesitated, wondering how to go about doing so. Pouring more chakra into the barrier would probably overlap the gaps and compensate, but that method had already proved crude and inefficient. The only other option was to visualize the regions he'd mentioned and manually extend the barrier.

Concentrating, she pictured the gaps and extended the reach of her chakra. Soon, the gusts ruffled her hair and clothes more noticeably. She focused on the sensation, memorizing it, and finally spoke.

"Did I cover them?"

There was a second of silence. Then she felt the air shift behind her head and break in a burst of pressure. She instinctively whipped around with her arm raised.

The jarring clang of metal on metal pierced the silence and she stared, shocked, at the sight of her kunai grating along the edge of his. He looked at her, a hint of satisfaction on his face.

"You covered them."

* * *

It quickly became clear to her that he intended to have her perfect it before the night was over. She summoned the barrier again and again, adjusting her control until she could sustain it without concentrative effort. The forced repetition was exhausting but served its purpose. She could now differentiate the distinct feel of gaps in the barrier and quickly extended her reach to cover them. His last inspection, and subsequent silence, was enough of an indication that she'd succeeded.

Night fell.

She put Maru to bed, lighting a single candle before returning to the first room. They cleared the floor till there was enough room to move around in, then waited until complete darkness fell.

Temari sat down with the candle and looked into the flame until spots appeared in her vision. When she was ready, she leaned forward and blew it out, plunging them into darkness.

The prolonged exposure to the light left her completely blind. It was disorienting, especially when she felt the weight of her surroundings despite feeling like she was standing in some fathomless void.

Her taijutsu was mediocre, at best, and from what she'd gathered from the short altercation of their first meeting, he was leaps and bounds above her level. He was right to insist on this final test.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked.

His voice emerged from somewhere in front of her. "I've adapted to see in the dark."

Without another word, she summoned the wind barrier one more time and settled into a defensive stance. He was on her immediately, the lightest swish of fabric alerting her to his movement before she felt the air break next to her head.

She ducked. The kick skinned the top of her crown, the near-miss sending adrenaline pouring into her veins. The dark only added to the tension, a natural reaction no amount of shinobi training could drive out. The fact that he stood waiting in the dark, watching her intently for an opening, only compounded the eerie sense of vulnerability.

The air imploded in front of her chest next, prompting her to shove her arms up in front of her to block another kick. Her reaction time was barely compensating for the lethally fast assaults, and it was with a grim sort of awe she realized he wasn't using anywhere near his top speed.

Instead of letting herself be cowed by the realization, she focused harder on her surroundings, using her ears and rapidly adjusting eyes in addition to the wind barrier.

Gradually she progressed from blocking to evading, and then to deflecting and manipulating the assaults in her favour. He granted her no leeway, instead increasing the speed and force of his attacks to match her improvement.

She felt a shift in the training session when the next blow sent her stumbling to the left. She quickly righted herself, grounding her feet and readying herself for the next attack.

"Fight back."

The disembodied voice emanated from somewhere to the left of her. Temari hesitated at the thought of going on the offensive, but the next set of attacks left her no choice. He was relentless, ruthlessly efficient in his strikes and completely silent. She couldn't even count on the draw of a breath to alert her to his location.

The force of the next impact sent a bolt of pain up her wrist. Wincing, she shook away the tingles in her arm and readied herself to retaliate, only to throw her arms up to block again. The blow sent her stumbling into a shelf. The collision resounded loudly in the dark, punctuated by the clatter of tools hitting the ground.

The noise was addling, driving up her hackles and spiking her heart rate. She darted away from the shelf and the rolling bolts, ducking the punch that followed. She threw a blind kick to stave him off. Her toes skimmed his cloak, and she was barely able to recover and avoid a leg sweep that would have sent her crashing to the ground.

Retreating, she felt her defensive form crumbling as he backed her into a corner. Her muscles ached from overexertion and loss of chakra, and she readied herself to take the next blow straight on because evading was out of the question.

The air rippled directly in front of her. Her eyes widened when it was followed by the soft, metallic clink of his necklace. Reacting instinctively, she reached in the direction of the noise and seized his arm, jerking him forward and intercepting the impending kick with her knee. Her hand shot out in the dark. Cold, marmoreal flesh grazed her fingers, and she realized her hand had found his throat. An instant later, she jerked back as though burnt, back colliding gracelessly with the wall behind her. For a long moment, her laboured breaths were the only sounds in the silence.

He remained motionless somewhere in front of her. Then he took a step back.

Temari blinked, squinting when the darkness vanished with the streamlined glow of flames falling from his lips. A candle came alive in his hand.

"That's enough for now," he said. "You did well."

She nodded, too out of breath to speak. He set the candle down.

"You should rest for tomorrow."

"Right," she managed to say. He turned away from her then and she departed into the next room. Closing the door, she walked forward and fell onto the mattress without changing.

Her hand tingled unpleasantly. She was struck with the urge to rub it out against her shirt and was immediately irritated with her reaction.

She'd touched him before. She'd been repulsed, then, too, but had refrained from recoiling.

Her brow furrowed and she closed her eyes. The darkness had made her forget. His willingness to help and the sound of his voice—calm, steady, and ever-patient—had let the thought slip to the back of her mind.

Shaking her head, she rolled onto her side and immediately felt her eyes grow heavy. She let her mind wander a bit before letting sleep overtake her, her last waking thoughts circling on the man in the next room.

She wondered if her reaction had bothered him.

* * *

The physical toll of training put her in a state of sleep verging on comatose. She slept through the beams of morning light splaying over her face, finally waking near noon. Sitting up, she stretched her stiff limbs and turned her head towards the crib. She froze. It was empty. A pang of fear seized at her throat and she ripped the covers off to stand up, but then a faint squeal of laughter and a softly murmuring voice crept through the cracks in the door. The tension deflated out of her.

She reached up to rub her eyes and squinted at the door. He must have come into the room while she'd been sleeping. Ignoring the disquieting feeling that came with knowing he'd seen her at her most vulnerable, she glanced at her watch and uttered a curse. She was an hour late for Maru's feeding. She got out of bed and made her way to the shelf where she kept his formula and bottle, only to stop midway. The shelf was empty.

As she stared at it, another soft gurgle of laughter seeped through the cracks. Her eyes lowered in understanding. Turning away, she moved towards the door and opened it.

She noticed Maru first, relaxing when she found him sitting contentedly on the floor. Then she glanced at the figure sitting in the chair.

"He woke early," Itachi said by way of explanation.

Temari didn't reply right away, instead dropping her gaze to the empty bottle and can of formula next to the chair.

"You fed him," she stated.

He remained silent. Then he reached down and gathered the bottle and tin. Temari watched him as he rose to his feet and approached her, holding the items out.

"You needed time to recuperate," he said when she just stared at him questioningly.

It occurred to her, then, that he expected her to be angry. She slowly reached out to take the items, then paused midway. Her hands hovered in the air a moment before pushing them back.

"He thinks you're his father," she said, brushing past him. "You might as well play the part."

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. They dropped the subject at that, concerned more with preparing for their departure. Maru crawled around them as Temari packed her necessities and stashed an arsenal of kunai, shuriken and exploding notes on her person. She went through the preparations with a calm mask, giving away nothing about the knots twisting her stomach or the sour feeling in the back of her throat.

Itachi waited by the door until she stepped into the first room and tucked her fan into its holster. Maru eagerly reached for her, holding fistfuls of her shirt as she tucked him into the sling around her shoulders. He nestled closer to her warmth and lay still, chewing the teething ring she gave him.

She wavered, then, taking a moment to look down at him. Her eyes flickered. Carefully, she pulled up the cloth to hide him from view and made her way over.

Itachi let her ascend the first step before opening the cellar doors. Sunlight spilled in, dousing them in heat and brightness. She squinted against the glare, emerging cautiously alongside Itachi.

The landscape was barren and completely silent. The only other house in the vicinity had long crumbled to ash, appearing as little more than a black smear on the horizon. Ducking her head against the light, she focused on their trajectory and started north. Itachi fell into step behind her, letting the doors fall closed behind him.

The ravine they'd taken two days before lay to the west, tapering off in the distance as they walked the razed plains. No vultures circled overhead this time, the sky clear, blue, and cloudless as far as the mountains in the west. The only sounds in the area came from the soft rustle of their footsteps in the grass, the only movement in the listless flight of dandelion seeds.

Temari observed the landscape and caught a sweet breeze, turning her head to find a tree shrouded with apple blossoms nearby.

The air was still, devoid of even the slightest hint of chakra. A closed expression slowly overtook her features. Madara was a pragmatic man. The nature of the extermination had proved to be a careful, systematic endeavour instead of a chaotic massacre.

He was following a plan, following probability and figures. The silence and serenity of this place could only mean one thing. It was now a dead zone.

Temari lowered her eyes to the mats of Thrift growing underfoot.

"You'd think it would be more desolate," she muttered.

The quiet footsteps continued behind her, giving no reply.

They continued north until the plains gave way to sloping hillsides and the cover of trees. Temari nearly came to a stop when she caught movement between the leaves, her sudden tenseness catching his attention. Seconds later, a hummingbird emerged from beneath the canopy, its wing beats surreal and loud in the silence.

Temari stared at it, steps slowing when it circled around overhead before disappearing into the leaves of another tree.

"Not everything needs to change."

The voice started her into movement. She resumed her normal pace, sparing him a side glance. He kept his gaze on the surrounding trees, skin ashen and eyes glistening like black ink. She turned back to face the horizon and didn't speak again.

Her wariness heightened as the terrain gradually changed again, drying off into shrubbery and rocky outcrops. Their shadows lengthened, growing dimmer with the dusting of pink and indigo in the sky. Maru stirred in his sleep, growing still again when she placed a hand against his back.

They were twenty minutes from the caves. She stopped next to an incline, feeling a peculiar sensation snake down her back. "There's something..."

He stopped next to her, looking over the sloped hillside.

"Chakra traces," he confirmed. "Four, at minimum."

She took a breath and drew her binoculars from her bag, bringing them to her eyes. "I can see the caves from here. If we go at a dead sprint, it'll take ten minutes."

She hesitated, fingers tightening around the binoculars as she lowered them. Maru suddenly felt heavy against her. "The terrain's no good. They're likely to ambush us."

He studied the rock formation below, weighing their options.

"Take Maru and run. I will cover you."

She tensed, throwing him an uncertain look.

"There will be more if they have time to react," he continued, looking up at the darkening sky. "You'll lose sight of the caves if you don't go now."

She didn't reply. When he lowered his eyes and looked at her, he found her staring out at the landscape with her arms wrapped firmly around the bundle against her chest. Her apprehension was understandable.

Asking for her trust in such decrepit circumstances was tantamount to blind faith, especially with the helpless life she carried in her arms. He took a step closer and she glanced up sharply, expression faltering at the look on his face.

"I will cover you," he assured quietly.

She was silent for a few seconds. Then she turned away and stood at the edge of the incline, arms tense by her sides.

"I'll call out."

He nodded, getting into place behind her. "Don't stop until you get there."

There was a pause. And then she took off sprinting down the hillside. Itachi was right on her heels, waiting in anticipation of the encroaching chakra signatures. Temari was barely able to evade in time when he suddenly leapt in front of her and intercepted a barrage of shuriken.

She just managed to catch sight of the tainted nin blending out of his surroundings in her periphery before she left them, her ears ringing from the report of shuriken on kunai. The others came out of hiding the instant the first collision rang out, aligning on the path ahead of her.

Her stomach lurched at the sight of them.

They were in terrible shape. Their clothes were torn to tatters, stab wounds and lacerations standing out at every surface. Some limbs were dark and bloated with infection. The pain must have been agonizing, but they walked with no hint of hindrance, dragging their weapons.

Once again, Itachi intercepted the two closest to her, allowing her to veer left and take the narrow gap between a boulder and cliff face. She'd hardly burst into the clearing when an axe cleaved the air inches from her head. Reeling sideways, she regained her footing in time to see the burly Konoha nin stagger back from a kick.

The man vanished in a move of stealth belying his size, appearing directly behind Itachi with his arms raised. Her blood stilled in her veins at the sight of the axe plunging through Itachi's left clavicle, severing him down the middle.

Then his body disintegrated into a writhing, black mass, the air breaking with the caws and wing beats of ravens. Before the nin could recover from the downward strike, a hand burst out of the ground behind him and snared his ankle. The roar of rage that followed was abruptly cut short when the man disappeared beneath the earth.

Recovering, she leapt down the slope of bedrock, adrenaline pouring into her veins at the sound of footfalls giving chase. Reaching into her thigh holster, she drew out a kunai and spun around, slashing for the throat.

It found home, cutting deeply into an Iwa nin's neck, only to snag midway as his form crumbled into dirt. The real one burst out of the ground an instant later, kunai aimed directly for her face. She threw herself out of the way, bracing a hand against Maru's back. By the time she raised her head, a kage bunshin cut off the Iwa nin bearing down on her, the collision of kunai on kunai ricocheting through the area with a loud crack. Itachi glanced at her over his shoulder, voice urgent. "Go."

She held his gaze for a moment, then turned around and fled.

The dark, sloping outline of the caves soon became visible. She raced along the edge of it, running her hand along the surface for a gap. When her hand finally slipped from grainy stone and met air, she immediately undid the strap on the sling and pushed through.

The gap was frighteningly narrow. She held Maru up near her neck, sucking in her breath to slither through the claustrophobic opening. She was halfway in when she saw a flash of flames in the distance. Leaning out, she shouted as loud as she could.

"North face, Uchiha!"

Then she ducked back inside, squeezing and gingerly manoeuvring her way through with the bundle pressed tightly against her neck.

Itachi found the opening a minute later, instantly layering it with a genjutsu before disappearing inside. Just to be certain, he formed a seal and slammed his palm flat against the cave wall. The overhang jutting above the entrance crumbled, showering it with boulders and dust until the gap was sealed and the last beams of light choked out.

In the black pitch, Temari's gasping breaths and Maru's cries were disconcertingly loud, echoing off their surroundings as he emerged into the cave and turned to the source of the noise.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," she managed to get out, leaning against the wall for support. "We're okay."

The cries gradually tapered off as Temari soothingly rubbed his back. The gentle sounds of water dripping and lapping against stone permeated the silence. There was a faint rustle of cloth and then a few clicks, followed by the soft spark of her lighter igniting. They were standing next to a subterranean river.

Itachi turned to the entrance, resting a hand against the piled rocks.

"Others may come. We can't leave from here."

Temari straightened from against the wall, lighting one of the candles in her pack before venturing forward. He turned around, following her gaze as it travelled the cave walls for a possible opening. The wall was smooth and solid until it tapered down into the river.

Her shoulders sagged. "There's no other way out."

As if sensing her disconcertment, Maru burst into shrill, agitated cries and squirmed within the sling. Temari turned back to the wall, setting the candle on the floor and undoing the knot. Itachi remained by the entrance, watching as she placed Maru on the ground and sat next to him.

Maru gradually quieted, relieved at being back on solid ground, and took to exploring the cave floor near the candlelight. Temari took the opportunity to prepare his feeding, partially out of need to distract herself from the daunting circumstances.

Itachi finally moved away from the cave entrance and settled onto the floor just outside the reach of the candlelight. "Rest for a few hours."

He didn't need to tell her. After travelling the better part of the day, she intended to. Snaring Maru around the middle, she plopped him into her lap and held the bottle to his mouth. Her head dropped back against the wall as he drank, eyes aimlessly searching the ceiling.

They'd made good time, all things considered. It was nearing 9:30 PM and the sky would stay black with the advent of the new moon. If they played their cards right, they could make it to the checkpoint before the night was over. And if worst came to worst, there would be enough time to make a trip back before the next night fell.

The only problem now was getting out of the cave.

She felt a nudge and glanced down to see that Maru had finished. Setting him down, she fished in her bag for a diaper, brows knitted in thought. Itachi remained silent by the entrance, his eyes on them but his gaze distant. Maru was blissfully unaware of their concerns, mumbling through his fingers and batting at the stones on the cave floor. One of them went rolling over the ground and fell into the water with a gentle splash.

At the sound, Temari glanced at the dark, rippling surface, reminded to wash her hands. Reaching into her bag, she drew out a disenfectant wipe to clean her hands, then dunked them into the water.

In the dim candlelight, her reflection was dark but discernible in the black depths, staring back at her with pensive eyes. The image was broken when Maru sent another rock tumbling into the water, and raising her head, she watched the ripple reach to the end of the cave wall.

Her eyes suddenly widened.

Itachi blinked, brought out of his reverie when she drew her hands out of the water with a splash and hurriedly dried them on her pants. He watched as she searched through her bag and withdrew a stack of folded papers.

Unfurling one, she set it on her lap and brought the candle closer.

"Look at this."

He got up and made his way over, settling against the wall next to her as she laid the paper flat on the cave floor. It was a topographic map, one of the few he hadn't perused. Wordlessly, Temari leaned down and traced her fingertips over the blue line of the Kumo River. It travelled northeast from the border and through the caves in a subterranean inlet, passing out the other end and continuing northeast towards their destination.

Understanding washed over them as he raised his head and looked at the dark water glistening nearby. The feeling devolved into apprehension when he finally spoke.

"How long can you hold your breath?"

* * *

Maru fell asleep a few hours later, curled up in the soft folds of the sling and her travel pack. The candle had dwindled down to a nub and she'd staved off her exhaustion with a chakra pill, hoping it would see her through to the next morning.

She would have preferred sleeping, but the cover of night would be her only shelter against the possibility of the checkpoint being overrun. The thought made her stomach turn, so she focused on preparing herself instead.

The clinks of her weapons echoed loudly in the cave as she set them aside on the floor. The iron weight of her fan would no doubt weigh her down in the water. She could only afford to take her underwater flares and keep her kunai and shuriken arsenal to a minimum.

As she clipped the last flare into place, the still surface of the water rippled. Temari raised her head, gaze falling on the dark head that broke the surface. Itachi planted his hands on the cave floor and hoisted himself out, trailing a stream behind him as he walked towards her.

"The water exits the cave at the other end. It should rejoin the Kumo River in the northeast direction."

Temari aimed an uncertain look at the murky depths behind him. "Can I make it through?"

"Not in one breath. But there are air pockets midway."

They were quiet, then, dwelling on the final loose end. The gentle rattling of Maru's teething ring broke the silence as he shifted in his slumber.

Slowly, Itachi moved over to him and lifted him into his arms. Temari watched from the side, heart wringing when Itachi murmured his name and touched cold fingers to his cheek. Maru stirred, whimpering at the disturbance, and cracked open his watering eyes to look up into the Sharingan.

It seemed unfathomable to leave him behind, but it was the only choice. Even if she could somehow take him with her, there was no way she could fend off the enemy should the checkpoint be overrun. Not with him on her hands.

But that still didn't stop her from feeling sick at what they were doing.

After a while, Itachi turned around and carried him back. Temari was minutely relieved to see him fast asleep again.

"He won't wake," he said quietly, lowering the sleeping bundle onto the surface of her bag. "Not until I release it."

She was somewhat comforted by that. It would have been inconceivably cruel to let him wake alone in the dark without his parents again. And if they didn't come back, she thought, brushing her fingers over his cheek, then sleeping unto oblivion was the most merciful fate she could think of.

After making sure Maru was well hidden behind an occlusion away from the water, Temari rose to her feet and followed Itachi over to the water's edge. They stood there, looking at their reflections as she reached into the first pocket of her flak jacket and withdrew a flare.

"Stay close," he said. "Watch the ceiling for air pockets."

She nodded and uncapped the flare, watching the sparks rain down into the depths. Without another moment's hesitation, she took a deep breath and stepped off the ledge with him into the water.

There was no time to adjust to the change in temperature or the disorienting blackness around her. The flares had a limited lifespan and she only had four of them. Kicking off the wall behind her, she plunged after him.

The first minute and a half was nothing less than terrifying. Her surroundings were nothing but solid rock, only exacerbating her need to breathe. Her gaze flitted sporadically between the ceiling for a sign of an air pocket and the dark fabric billowing a few feet ahead of her. She couldn't afford to lose sight of either.

Just as the first wisps of panic were beginning to settle in, he came to a stop in front of her and lifted his head towards the surface. Temari followed his gaze, moving her arms and legs as fast as she could to propel herself to the dark, irregular shape overhead.

She broke the surface, gasping for breath in the black, cavernous space. She gave herself ten seconds to swallow as much air as she could before drawing another breath and plunging back in. The calcium flare flickered, growing faint, and she wasted no time in withdrawing another and continuing after the dark, indistinct shape moving ahead of her.

She lost count of how many times she surfaced for breath after that, focusing instead on the increasing burn in her muscles and her dwindling number of flares. It was for that reason she couldn't react with anything but blind horror when her third flare suddenly sputtered and died thirty seconds after she'd lit it.

The water instantly became pitch black around her. She lost sight of Itachi and her proximity to the surface. Spinning around, she looked left and right for the opening she'd glimpsed moments ago, only to have panic seize at her chest as she floundered aimlessly in the dark. Her hands flew up to her pockets, scrabbling over the flaps for her last flare. The cold numbed her fingers. She groped clumsily for the small tube.

Her chest burned and tightened, legs turning to lead. She kicked hard when she realized the weight of her fan was dragging her down, movements growing frantic at the rising impulse to inhale a lung's worth of water.

Just as her fingers encircled the cylindrical tube of the flare, a vice-like grip seized her wrist and yanked her upward. She gave into the urge to breathe the instant she felt her head break the surface and drew huge, choking gasps when she emerged into a tiny air pocket nestled near the cave ceiling.

Scrambling for purchase in the disorienting blackness, she lit the flare with one hand while blindly reaching out with the other. Her fingers seized cold, wet fabric, holding tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut to the influx of bright, hissing light.

When she cracked her eyes open, she found herself in a niche no more than two feet high and four feet wide, its surfaces slick and glistening with the orange glare. She found Itachi just across from her, holding to her wrist as she kept a white-knuckled grip on the front of his cloak.

"Are you all right?" he questioned.

It took her a moment to get enough air into her lungs to respond, a part of her unsettled by his calm disposition and lack of breathlessness. But then she realized he wasn't breathing at all and squeezed her eyes shut again.

"Let's not do that again," she said hoarsely.

He released his hold on her wrist, bracing his hands against the slick rock surface instead to let her catch her breath. When she'd recovered enough to open her eyes again, he looked pointedly at the sputtering flare.

"How many do you have left?"

She grimaced. "This is it."

He nodded, looking down at the surface of the water. "We're almost there."

His eyes moved to the sputtering flare, then, narrowing at its dwindling light. "It won't last until then."

Her throat tightened at that, dread bearing down on her at the thought of navigating the water in the dark again. He noticed her expression and took the flare from her hand, manoeuvring around in the tight space till his back was to her.

"Hold on and don't let go. The current is strong from here."

Clenching her jaw to ward off her misgivings, she seized the fabric of his hood and wound it tight in her fist. He gave her just enough time to take a deep breath and then plunged back into the water. She followed, holding tight and kicking hard to keep up as he navigated towards the opening.

The flare extinguished a minute later, plunging them into blackness again. Temari felt that familiar foreboding press down on her chest and held tighter to his hood, grip tightening that much more when she felt the pull of the current.

The force of the water nearly squeezed the air from her lungs. She held on and screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself when she felt herself pulled violently upwards.

They burst out of the cave opening and into open water. She let go of him, then, needing both arms to swim to the surface and propel herself towards the riverbank. The current receded, giving way to calm water farther down the river. She let herself be carried out to it before swimming over to the bank.

Dragging herself over the edge, she felt the soil crumble beneath her fingers and the grass sink beneath her weight. Relieved, she flopped onto it stomach-first, fighting to catch her breath.

A few seconds later, she heard the grass rustle beneath approaching footsteps and lifted her head. Itachi stood over her, looking comparatively unruffled. She did not wait for him to offer her a hand and dragged herself to her feet. Squeezing as much water out of her clothes as she could, she fell into step beside him as they turned away from the bank and started towards the checkpoint.

They walked without speaking for the first thirty minutes. It felt surreal to be out in the open night again. She half-expected to catch a glimpse of the red moon between the gusting clouds, but the sky remained clear and black. For the first time in a long time, she openly gazed up at the sky, relishing the feel of starlight on her eyes.

Next to her, Itachi walked silently, looking straight ahead. She could gauge nothing from his expression, nor anticipate the sorts of thoughts going through his head.

Guilt scored her chest as she thought of Maru, nestled safely in the cave in a void of wakeless sleep. Her resolve buckled, steps slowing slightly as the gravity of what they'd done sank in.

"He will be fine."

Temari glanced up at the voice. Itachi didn't acknowledge the look, saying nothing else to supplement his cursory statement. He didn't have to.

The careful way he'd held him and the soft touch of his fingers to Maru's face had betrayed his detachment.

They continued on in silence, following the river and keeping alert for hints of chakra. The path remained undisturbed the entire way. She didn't hold to groundless hope, well aware it would only hurt her more if she expected anything less than disappointment.

An hour and a half later, they both came to an abrupt stop at the sight of something glowing on the horizon. Temari drew her binoculars out of her flak jacket, peering out at the dark as Itachi looked on. After a few seconds, she lowered them.

"It's the checkpoint," she said, voice tight. "The lights are on."

Itachi said nothing, gazing out at it with narrowed eyes.

"I don't feel any chakra," she said a moment later. "Do you?"

"No."

Her unease intensified even before she heard his answer. They started forward again, steps soundless in the undergrowth.

Twenty minutes later, they stopped a short distance away from the dome-shaped building. The source of bright light became apparent. The emergency floodlights had been switched on. Across the brick expanse, the windows were boarded over. Shattered glass and splintered wood littered the ground. Holes gouged the soil in the surrounding perimeter, evidence of doton users attempting to tunnel their way inside. At the entrance, planks of wood and broken chains littered the ground. The door stood ajar.

Lowering her eyes, Temari felt herself grow numb at the sight of fresh footprints in the surrounding dirt. She moved closer, eyes scoping the perimeter. There were haphazard footprints moving off in every direction away from the building. A sign of a frantic escape.

Her voice came out smothered. "We're too late."

There was still no trace of chakra. Itachi lingered by the front door a little while, head lowered as though listening for something. When he finally looked up, she caught his glance and moved to follow as he stepped over the chains and disappeared inside.

Flickering, fluorescent lights illumed the hallways, humming loudly in the silence. Temari stepped over the glass littering the floors, glancing past every open door for a sign of life.

The first floor was completely devoid of it. She followed as Itachi opened the door to the stairwell and started to the second floor. On the second flight, they found muddy footprints and a discarded kunai, following the trail until they emerged onto the floor.

They stepped past the doorway and stopped short. At the end of the hallway, Temari caught sight of twin blood smears in the shapes of hands running the length of the floor and disappearing behind the corner. A limp arm lay stretched out past the threshold of the nearest door.

They didn't move or speak for several seconds. Then Itachi slowly moved over to the door and stepped inside. Temari was quick to follow when no sounds were forthcoming, stepping past the body and into what was probably a meeting room. The place was in complete disarray, looking as though it had been ransacked.

The windows had been shattered, exposing the night sky and filling the room with the sweet scent of nearby wildflowers.

It made her want to throw up.

An inspection of the rest of the rooms on the floor yielded the same result. There had been an obvious break-in; judging by the number of footprints, at least sixty shinobi had been involved. The fact that the bloodstains were still wet meant that up until a few hours ago, the place had been a shelter for the untainted.

A few hours, she thought repeatedly, masking her disbelief as her gaze swept the destroyed room. _A few hours_.

The thought was instantly followed by a realization.

"They didn't burn it," she said aloud.

Itachi glanced up from where he'd been examining a bloodstain. Temari moved over to the window, looking out at the tracks beneath the floodlights.

"The survivors outnumbered the enemy. That's why they didn't burn this place yet—they went after them."

"Meaning they will be back," he surmised. "We should leave."

She turned away from the window and strode over to the drawers. "Hold on."

He lingered by the door as she swept around the room opening drawers and cabinets, grabbing whatever she thought useful. Several charts and maps tacked the walls, marked with X's and blacked-out zones eerily reminiscent of her own findings. Those went into her pockets last before she joined him by the door.

Within a minute, they were back outside, trailing the footsteps surrounding the building.

"They move off in all directions," Itachi observed, raising his head and peering into the darkness. "Some southwest."

Temari stiffened at that, following his gaze and noting several tracks taking off down the route back to the caves.

"It took us two hours to get here by the river," she said, following the footprints away from the building. "Our best guess is they escaped by the same margin. If some of them went this way—"

She looked pointedly at the path they had to take back. "They'll have reached the caves by now. If enemy backup showed up after you got rid of the ambushers..."

She trailed off. There was a stretch of silence. Then they looked at each other, sharing a brief moment of realization before immediately breaking into a run.

If a melee took place near the caves, there would undoubtedly be a massacre. On the off-chance the battle was still going, they'd be forced to engage to get Maru back.

But more than any of that, Temari thought, feeling sick, the scale of the fight could have already breached the caves. Gritting her teeth, she ran faster. The fear only heightened forty minutes into their route when the first body came into sight. It lay pale and still in the tall weeds, sprawled facedown.

Temari spared it a look before forcing her gaze back on the horizon, knowing there was no point in stopping and checking for vital signs. The feel of the grass squelching wetly beneath their feet made it clear there wouldn't be.

Several more corpses crossed their path before they spotted the caves in the distance. The rock face was barely visible, made discernible only by its sheer blackness against the already inky backdrop. They slowed to a stop, then, tensing for a feel of chakra.

The air was still and devoid of sound. They remained motionless for several seconds, listening. When no noise was forthcoming, they slowly ventured forward, stopping when they made it into the clearing.

The surrounding rocks shone faintly with streaks of blood, torn asunder by the force of violence that had taken place. Weapons littered the ground and at least a dozen bodies lay scattered before them, some hunched over and leaning against boulders.

"They've gone ahead."

Temari turned away from the carnage, finding Itachi looking out at the hills. She followed his gaze, seeing nothing to imply the survivors and enemy had made it over the incline. But then her eyes caught on a flicker in the star-speckled backdrop. She squinted.

In the distance, a thin stream of smoke curled into the night sky.

Her fleeting relief instantly gave way to foreboding. "Maru—"

Without another word, she took off running into the clearing. Itachi was right behind her, his pace faltering only slightly at the deep holes gouging the earth and the scorch marks blackening the stones. The body count mounted just outside of the caves. Large sections had crumbled away and a charred corpse still glowed faint with embers a few metres from the entrance.

Temari skidded to a stop near it, eyes aimlessly searching the illusory wall as Itachi came to a stop next to her. The solid rock melted away, revealing a landslide of boulders barring the gap. Clapping her hands over her ears, she turned away as he formed a seal and slammed his hand onto the barrier.

The rocks and most of the cave wall imploded inwards, clattering over the floor and splashing into the river. They clambered through the opening, kicking aside the remaining boulders until they made it inside. Itachi disappeared somewhere ahead of her and Temari clicked her lighter until it finally came to life. She almost dropped it in relief at the sight of him carrying Maru back to the entrance.

Moving closer, Temari quickly glanced over him. He was still and serene, breathing deeply and looking as though he hadn't stirred even once. Reassured, she sped past them and grabbed her bag and remaining weapons. When she made to turn back, she stopped short.

Itachi stood by the entrance, his arm outstretched. The strap of the sling dangled from his hand.

She wavered, staring at it a moment. Then she looked up at him. "You take him."

He did not object and she turned away to stash her weapons and don her bag. By the time she turned around, he'd already draped the sling around his shoulder and tucked Maru out of sight within his cloak. Temari glanced out the cave entrance, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her brows knit low at the unspoken question now weighing the air.

Would it be better to cut their losses and run, she wondered, or pursue the tainted and survivors in the hopes of gaining more allies?

She momentarily closed her eyes. Not only had the west coast been lost, but the Kumo stronghold was gone, too. She would not see another new moon for another month. If she were to take on the tainted now, it would be her best chance to procure more allies.

The thought was immediately tempered by the number of bodies they'd encountered scattered along their trail. Temari opened her eyes, her gaze settling on the small lump nestled beneath Itachi's cloak. To take something so defenceless out into the front lines was unthinkable.

And him, she thought, raising her eyes to the red ones gazing impassively back at her. Even someone as inhumanly powerful as he could be brought down by the sheer brutality and unyielding force of the enemy. The west coast had been enough proof of that. It had been her mistake. She would not make it again.

"We won't engage," she said, voice low. "We'll go back to the bunker. Any objections?"

He made no reply at first, looking at her as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"No," he said eventually.

Dropping her head, she brushed past him and paused at the cave opening. "Let's go."

He moved to follow and she stepped out into the night air, stomach roiling at the stench of burnt flesh. Covering her nose, she started past the rubble of the cave wall, bypassing the smouldering corpse. Raising her head, she scoped the horizon for an alternate route back to the border when a voice burst out screaming.

She gasped at the sheer volume and suddenness of it, instinctively reaching for her fan. Then she realized it was coming from directly behind her and whipped around. Her lips parted in horror.

The charred corpse next to them had raised its head up to the night sky, its mouth open in the most unearthly, bloodcurdling scream she'd ever heard. The sight wasn't nearly as shocking as that of its nearly skeletal hand gripping the end of Itachi's cloak.

His eyes had widened in unconcealed shock. There was no chakra emanating from the thing next to them—it was running on its last heartbeats alone. Despite that, and despite the burnt, mutilated remains of its face, the twisted expression of mad fury still shone through.

The fabric of the cloak tore as Itachi jerked away from its grip. Before it could recover enough for another swipe, Temari raised her fan and brought it down hard on top of its head. Blood sprayed the cave wall and the loud crack of the skull splintering echoed throughout the clearing.

Then there was silence. Heart racing, Temari turned away from the corpse and threw an incredulous look at Itachi. He said nothing, regarding the thing with a clear air of disquiet. The expression put Temari on edge and she moved over to his side, throwing a hasty look over her shoulder at the burnt body.

"Let's get out of here."

Wordlessly, he looked away from the corpse and moved to follow as she broke into a run. As the caves dwindled in the distance and they left the disturbing incident behind them, Temari felt herself grow restless.

The tainted didn't talk. That much she was certain of after more than a month observing them. But therein was the problem. She'd gotten the inkling they communicated through some form of telepathy. That thing had gotten a clear look at Itachi before she'd killed it, with more than enough time to relay a message.

The fact that it had bypassed her when she'd walked right past it and aimed instead for him had to mean something.

Something prickled on the back of Temari's neck. Despite herself, she turned her head to glance over her shoulder as they ran up the incline. Nothing but the dark expanse of the land looked back at her. Lowering her eyes, she caught Itachi sparing a similar look behind them.

Swallowing, she forced herself to look forward and leapt up over the edge of the rock. Her eyes swept the ground for footprints, finding none. Instead, she caught sight of the smoke again and gritted her teeth when she realized it intersected their route back.

"We'll have to go the long way around," she said between laboured breaths, "Eastward, through another dead zone. No stops."

"Are you able?" he said from behind her.

Temari counted the hours since she'd last taken a chakra pill. Slowly, she nodded. "I can do it."

This time he stepped ahead of her to take the lead, glancing at her over his shoulder. "Watch the back."

At the words, Temari recalled the wary look he'd thrown to the north and felt the back of her neck prickle again. She nodded. He leapt up over the boulders then and she moved to follow, keeping her wind barrier in place.

Smoke continued to billow in the west, growing thicker in the night sky. They travelled the first three hours without incidence, picking up only on fleeting traces of chakra in the distance. It wasn't a cause for concern until the blips grew denser in formation and less intermittent. They were still far off enough to void the possibility of immediate danger, but the frequency was unsettling.

Temari glanced over her shoulder again. "Can you—?"

"I feel it," he affirmed.

"It's almost crescent-shaped," she muttered in bewilderment, visualizing the formation. "Farther east."

Itachi glanced in that direction before veering west to create some distance. They'd passed the ominous trail of smoke hours before. Gradually, the feel of chakra traces dwindled into a vague, faraway hum.

Temari continued to wonder about the peculiar, crescent-shaped formation in the east, not realizing what it meant until another hour passed and they discovered another plume of smoke rising into the sky, bigger than the last and steadily growing larger. At the same instant, the creeping surge of chakra charged the air again, this time emanating from the west.

Itachi came to a sudden stop, shoulders tense. Temari halted next to him, her suspicions confirmed when she caught the look on his face.

"Shit," she breathed, realizing what was happening. "They're closing in on us."

Confounded, she turned away, eyes skimming aimlessly over the endless horizon. "That nin must have sent out a message. But it's never been like this. It's never been this big."

"We have to go."

Temari turned around. Itachi was gazing out at the billowing smoke, eyes hard. Before she could ask, he took off running towards it. Temari blinked in disbelief before moving to follow.

"What are you doing?"

"The formation to the east is a separate group," he said without slowing down, "they're less likely to have suffered losses and injuries." He glanced in their direction. "The ones in the west have been pursuing the survivors all night."

Temari understood what he was implying and looked apprehensively to the trail of smoke. "Then we'll have to fight our way out of there."

"That is the best chance for survival," he replied, "and the shortest route."

Temari fell silent, realizing he was right. She spared a look at him and the bundle beneath his cloak, biting her lip. Despite all her misgivings, she'd seen enough of his prowess to know he was better off protecting Maru than she was. He'd already proven himself trustworthy enough.

"Take care of him," she found herself saying.

Itachi looked at her.

No other words were spoken between them as they closed the gap between themselves and the column of smoke. At least now, if she did meet her end out here like so many others, she would die with a degree of peace knowing Maru was in good hands.

Slowly, echoes of breaking stone and distant shouts came to bear. Frenetic chakra bursts climbed and dipped. The scent of burning grass permeated the air, along with a sickly sweet smell reminiscent of burnt flesh.

Small fires became visible on the surrounding grassland. Finally, Temari was able to recognize where they were. The location was two hours from the bunker, situated on grassland devoid of rock or tree cover. Several metres down, the faint susurrations of the Kumo River softened the clang of weapons. Shouts and roars carried over the breeze. Temari bit the inside of her mouth, tasting blood.

"Cut a path through them as fast as you can," Itachi said next to her. "We have approximately twenty minutes until the enemies in the east arrive."

Temari released a breath and nodded. "When you're ready."

She counted the seconds as he listened intently to the encroaching battle. When he tensed and leaned forward, she tightened her grip on the fan and ground her heels into the dirt.

"Now."

They burst into the clearing, instantly breaking into a sprint. Almost immediately, Temari found herself having to slow her stride to dodge the myriad of corpses littering the ground. The clash of weapons and raised voices were disorienting in the dark, loud enough to smother the steps of the Kumo nin bearing down on her from behind. It wasn't until the draw of his sword disrupted the air flow by her neck that she was able to react.

She leapt away from the swing, hearing the blade whistle through the air inches above her head. Unfurling her fan, she spun around and slashed out in front of her, hoping to throw him off. The sharp edge caught him in the stomach, doing nothing to dissuade him as he continued forward and struck again. The next sword strike collided violently off the edge of her fan, the impact reverberating all the way to her jaw.

Recognizing there was no point in aiming for non-lethal strikes, Temari booted him in the chest to knock him back and brought her fan up by her shoulder to sever his head from his body. Before she could gather momentum for the swing, he reeled back, raised his head, and suddenly leapt past her.

Her eyes widened in astonishment. Without dropping her guard, she whirled around lest he strike her from behind, only to catch sight of him running away. She stared after him, features slackening in shock. Slowly, she lowered her fan and gazed around the field.

The clash of the tainted fighting the survivors had abruptly fallen silent. In the light of the massive fire burning in the centre of the field, she caught sight of staggering shinobi running away, suddenly abandoned by their adversaries in the midst of battle.

Her lips parted, nearly giving in to the urge to call out to them. Instead, when the distant sound of fighting broke through the roar of flames, Temari tore her attention away from the escaping survivors and forced herself to start forward in search of Itachi.

The fire had grown massive. Smoke curled thick in the air, obscuring what little she could see in the dark. Raising her fan to cover her face, she held her breath and dashed through the smoke screen, feeling the heat tingle across her cheek and scalp.

The fresh air was like ice on her skin once she passed the fire's reach. Squinting, she finally lowered her fan and looked towards the source of the noise. The air left her lungs.

Dozens of the tainted—bleeding, dismembered, previously engaged—had all started towards a single target thirty metres ahead. When she caught the flash of flames and the caws of ravens carrying over the clamour, she suddenly understood.

Her legs burst into movement and she swung her fan open, leaping upon it to get there faster. As she hurtled towards the centre of the throng, the message of the burnt nin, the impending threat from the east, and the enemy's abrupt focus on Itachi suddenly made sense. The sight of a sealing scroll held amongst the group confirmed it.

The disposal of Uchiha Itachi had taken priority over the purge.

Temari plummeted through the sky till she was directly over the shinobi carrying the scroll. Snapping her fan closed, she lunged at him. The man collapsed face-first into the ground when she slammed into his back, hardly able to lift his head before she brought her fan down on the back of his skull.

When it caved beneath the blow, she snapped the fan back open and bit her thumb, streaking it across the canvas as several nin leapt for the scroll. Kamatari burst from the cloud of smoke and hurtled towards the group closest to her, immediately mowing them down.

Without waiting to see the extent of damage, she spun towards the others and blew them off their feet long enough for her to snatch up the scroll. Before she could touch it, the air warped at the back of her head and she threw herself out of the way. A kunoichi lunged for the scroll, stabbing viciously at Temari with a sai when she attempted to kick her off.

Staggering back, Temari raised her fan and lunged at the woman. She was stopped midway when the prongs of the sais snared into the fan's folds and stopped its descent. Temari grit her teeth and shoved against them, trying to topple her over. The woman snarled in response, froth building in the corners of her mouth, eyes wide and livid.

Temari shoved again. When it didn't budge and her gaze settled on the sight of a Konoha nin racing for the discarded scroll, she dropped all pretences and released the fan.

Seizing the kunoichi by the shoulders, she squeezed her eyes shut and slammed her head forward. The head butt caught the woman straight in the nose. It broke on impact, spraying blood as she fell back. Temari stumbled back and snatched up her fan again, spinning around in time to swing it upwards and catch the Konoha nin in the jaw.

He fell back and she finally seized it. Turning, she hurled it into the burning grass before taking off in search for another. It didn't take long. Standing a mere twenty feet from his target, a shinobi held a scroll ready in the crook of his arm. His hands were raised in a seal.

Temari caught the familiar symbol on the back of his flak jacket and froze. He was a member of the Nara clan. She knew what the jutsu was before she even saw the shadow stretch past his feet. Without wasting a second, she vaulted over the bodies and sprinted towards him, heart jumping into her throat at the speed of the shadow racing towards Itachi's feet.

Raising the fan up by her shoulder, she swung around and slammed the blunt end of it into his leg. It snapped his tibia, crumpling his leg beneath him. He collapsed with a guttural cry, losing the jutsu midway. She couldn't even bring herself to feel relief when she saw he wasn't who she thought he was. Instead, she lacerated the scroll to ribbons with a swing of her fan and took off running again.

In the ensuing chaos, she managed to kill another three before they could add to the group already battling Itachi. A part of her knew the only reason her berserker tactic was working was because they were too intent on their target to reciprocate blows. One of them finally caught her in the back with a vicious kick, the blow doing as intended and knocking her aside. She collapsed onto the grass, needing a moment to catch her breath as she lifted her head to look over the field.

A few metres ahead of her, Itachi was fending off six others on his own, keeping his distance to protect the bundle against his chest. Alarm spilled into her features when she noticed the enormous shinobi charging him with the sealing scroll from behind.

Even if Itachi did notice him in time, the size and force of chakra radiating off the man's frame was reminiscent of the sort supplied by specialized chakra pills. The only thing he could possibly do to fend him off was use that enormous, skeletal technique she'd seen him use against the first division.

But he wouldn't, she realized, her eyes widening. He couldn't use it now. Not with Maru there.

In front of her, black flames erupted from the ground in an effort to impede the horde. It was as brutally effective as last time, burning them alive as they ran through it. The sight of the sealing scroll closing in on him startled her into getting to her feet again.

Sprinting through the small bonfires dotting the grass, she leapt into the giant shinobi's path with her fan raised as a shield and thrust her other arm out behind her. The wind barrier disappeared, streaking down the length of her arm in a condensed torrent of chakra until it burst out of her hand. The turbulence was terrifying, half-threatening to rip her arm off, but she held to it, screwing her eyes shut and clenching her teeth in preparation. The shinobi smashed headlong into her, nearly snapping her arm.

The torrent of chakra gouged the earth behind her, spraying up rocks and debris. It took all her effort to keep from toppling backwards beneath his weight, feet dragging through the ground beneath his relentless assault.

When he realized her feeble attempt at stopping him was actually slowing him down, he stopped long enough to raise a fist and smash her aside. She seized her chance the moment he lifted his arm. The torrent of chakra condensed into a fine stream, growing as flat and thin as possible in that one second before she blindly swung her arm out in front of her. Blood sprayed her face when the wind found its target, severing his throat.

He staggered backwards, grip loosening on the scroll just enough for her to tear it out of his hands. Without wasting a second, she plunged her hand into her bag and drew out her exploding notes, slapping all twelve of them onto it and activating them simultaneously.

Her legs wobbled beneath her, hands cold and clammy from chakra depletion. Gasping for breath, she stumbled away from him and turned around, managing to shout loud enough for her voice to carry over the clamour.

"Take cover!"

Itachi heard her the same moment three more of the tainted ran through the flames. He glanced at her in time to see her swing her fan and ducked the slice of wind she sent flying over his head. It caught the closest shinobi in the midsection, slicing deep enough to knock them off balance and exacerbate the flames into a massive fireball. Itachi took that fraction of a second to break into a run when she spun around and flung the sealing scroll in their direction.

Her head whirled with the effort, hardly registering that she was standing too close to the impending explosion. She was spared the need to move when he knocked her to the ground, throwing them down into a crater. The earthen wall slammed up against her back and she instinctively gripped his sleeves when he draped his arms over her head.

The explosion was deafening, reverberating through the ground and uprooting massive chunks of earth. For what felt like a minute, mud and bloody debris rained over the clearing, impacting off their huddled frames. Several seconds later, when the last of the pattering tapered off, she finally shifted. He drew away, leaning back as she managed to sit up and focus blearily on him in the dark.

"Is he...?"

Itachi reached up and pulled back the front of his cloak. Maru lay curled up inside, nestled safely against his chest. His cheeks were smooth and untouched next to the muddy, blood stained material of the cloak. Relieved, Temari collapsed back against the dirt wall to catch her breath.

He sat next to her, enshrouding Maru in the cloak again as papery slips of skin resealed his wounds. For a long moment, they didn't speak, listening to the silence and staring sightlessly up at the night sky.

Her nerves were completely shot, numbing her to her surroundings. But the complete and utter absence of sound and chakra removed the possibility that any of them had survived. Her relief was short-lived, though, as Itachi soon got to his feet and looked down at her.

"We need to leave."

She nodded, closing her eyes momentarily before dragging herself to her feet. They climbed out of the hole, finding the clearing empty. A thick haze covered the ground, the black flames still smouldering a few meters away. She turned to look at him in the light. A thin stream of blood ran from his right eye down to his chin, still dripping.

"Which way back?" she questioned wearily, looking out at their route. "We're right out in the open."

"The Kumo River," he replied, glancing behind her. He moved past, steps quickening, and she did not miss the sharpness in his voice. "They're masking their chakra."

Temari quickly moved to follow, breaking into a run despite her exhaustion. "How far are they?"

He said nothing until they'd made it past the burning grasslands and the river came into view. She tried to feel for the chakra herself and realized why he'd never replied. She couldn't feel anything.

Her eyes narrowed in bewilderment. How could such a large group hide their chakra so seamlessly, and all at once? As though hearing her thoughts, he turned his head to speak. She never heard past the first word, though, because his eyes suddenly flashed and he abruptly came to a stop.

Before she could react, there was a muffled thump, followed by a hoarse cry. She whipped around, eyes widening in disbelief when a body dropped twenty feet behind her. She'd hardly taken in the sight of the kunai protruding from his neck before she heard another smothered cry and looked farther ahead. The flash of a katana lit the air and slashed down, cutting off the source of the noise.

"Keep moving."

Temari started at the voice, turning and finding Itachi by her side. In the distance, another cry was cut short. And then another.

Without asking further questions, she moved to follow as they broke into a run again.

"They sent spotters," he said in the midst of their sprint, "the kage bunshin won't last long against them."

Understanding dawned on her. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing nothing in the landscape streaking by. The peace would be fleeting. They only had as long as the kage bunshin could give them to get out of range and back to the bunker.

To their credit, the clones held them off longer than they anticipated. It wasn't until forty minutes later and the flatlands returned to rocky outcrops that the others emerged. Temari vaulted out of the way when a kunoichi lunged into their path from behind a rock cover.

Itachi intercepted her instantly, manipulating the kunai out of her hands and through her heart as another bunshin appeared and engaged the second shinobi that followed.

The previous reluctance to take lives was gone. He killed quickly and ruthlessly, silencing their screams and whatever message they hoped to relay back to the others. Temari was no exception; lethal slices of wind passed rapid and invisible from the swings of her fan, finding the stragglers behind them. The repeated assaults were taking their toll, though, and she fell farther back to fend them off as their numbers mounted.

A kunoichi collapsed at her feet, gurgling blood as Temari wrenched the kunai out of her chest. The same kunai found home in a shinobi's throat and he stumbled past her, collapsing face-first into the river. Temari staggered away from the riverbank, glancing over her shoulder long enough to see Itachi throwing aside a faceless, haemorrhaging corpse. Breathing hard, she mustered the strength needed to run back to him and hopefully sprint the rest of the way to the bunker. She didn't think her body could withstand anymore chakra loss.

She'd only managed to run forward a few steps before she heard a metallic click behind her. Cursing, she leapt out of the way, feeling the point of some sharp projectile graze the skin of her calf. Reeling around, she raised her arms to muster one final blow to throw them off and make a run for it.

The sight in front of her made the swing falter midway.

From the distance, the rumble of footsteps reverberated through the ground. Plumes of dust rose up on the horizon. The air that had been so fallaciously still curdled with killing intent.

She felt none of it.

The only thing she could focus on was the hunched silhouette thirty feet away from her. He raised his arm. Another hollow, clicking sound filled the air.

"No," she whispered, voice cracking. "Please, no."

She recognized the mop of hair. The tattered cloth. The whirs and clicks of gears she'd seen him fix lovingly at the dining table. He moved closer and her insides turned to ice. Her fan slackened in her grip.

* * *

When the gusts of wind abruptly died behind him and the distant roars redoubled in volume, Itachi immediately whipped around, eyes sweeping the landscape for the sand kunoichi. What he saw momentarily left him dumbfounded.

She was running straight at one of them, screaming something that drowned in the approaching discord. His eyes darted to the figure charging her with equal vehemence and something seized in his chest.

A beat. And then his feet were pounding over the dirt before he even registered the command to run.

She blew him back repeatedly, shouting over the clash of wind and rattling puppet parts, begging him to get a hold of himself. When the bursts of wind began cutting into his flesh and he started to bleed, her vision became blurred and the strength left her limbs. Undeterred by his injuries, he turned red, wild eyes on her and bared his teeth, charging her again. Lifting her fan, she tried to swing it and found herself incapable.

She should have been running away. She should have been attacking because she knew the futility of doing otherwise. Yet she stood there, not knowing what she was doing and acknowledging that he would kill her as soon as she was within striking distance. She didn't know what she hoped to accomplish screaming a constant refrain of his name and the commands to stop, please stop, it's _me_. But she still did it.

He saw and heard none of it. Sasori hurtled towards her, the sounds of whirring blades overriding the surrounding noise. She saw the blades coming, saw them cutting her in half within the next six seconds, and could do nothing but hold his gaze with anguished eyes.

The humming whir was interrupted an instant from meeting her waist by the clang of her fan catching the blades. There was a jamming, tearing noise as the blades caught on the reinforced steel and warped beyond repair, sending the puppet spiralling out of control and crashing into the ground.

The next moment, her brother and the multitude of tainted were swept away by a sudden surge of water, the deluge rising from the river next to her. Her lips parted in shock, head turning towards the sight of Itachi holding his hands in a seal behind her. A second later, she lunged forward and snatched up her fan, about to break into another sprint to go after her brother when an arm seized around her waist. She lurched against his hold, shrieking as he yanked her back and pinned her fan to her chest.

Her screams fell on deaf ears. He turned them in the opposite direction and ran, running till the land streaked by in a blur and the glittering sea of river water disappeared in the distance. At some point she stopped screaming; stopped fighting. He did nothing to acknowledge it and kept running.

The tainted didn't follow. They made it back an hour later, with her strangely silent and almost docile in the way she stepped down into the cellar. She went into the corner and sat down. She didn't look at him, nor did she speak.

He stood in the centre of the room staring at her for a few seconds. Then he moved away to tend to the child.

Hours later, after he'd put Maru to bed and secured the doors, he ventured over to her and laid a candle on the table by her side. She didn't acknowledge him, staring blankly into the darkness.

Itachi simply stood there, watching her. There was nothing he could say. But he had to speak, if only to comfort her as much as he could comfort himself.

"He's still alive," he said.

She blinked.

"Yes," she said eventually, sounding oddly composed. "He is."

There was a brief pause before she continued. "I shouldn't have lost my head back there. You were right to do what you did."

Itachi lingered behind her and said nothing. He felt compelled to walk away, then, to take his place in the opposite corner and resume another night's thinking on how to reverse an already hopeless situation. Instead, he took one of the chairs and sat next to her.

She didn't move. Her face remained calm, her breaths soft and even. She blinked every now and then. It was disheartening to look at.

She was still holding to the ideals drilled into her from childhood, tenuous and meaningless as they were. He looked at her and began to understand her feelings towards him when she'd talked about clan honour. There was a sense of bitterness overtaking him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

There were no shinobi anymore. There was no code of conduct. There was only him, her, and a sleeping infant lying blissfully unaware of the tumult overhead. A shinobi's life; a shinobi's honour; it meant nothing now. Adherence to such archaic notions was a way of blindly grasping for control in the dark.

He knew how pointless it was. The disease that had killed him when he'd been alive had been hastened by the torment he'd kept hidden inside. It had festered, taking away his sleep and leaving him weak and vulnerable to his affliction. Sitting by her and watching her make the same mistake was finally enough for him to break his silence, and tell her what he'd denied himself his entire life.

"You can cry."

Temari slowly turned her head to look at him. A twisted smile spread over her face.

"That's kind of presumptuous of you, don't you think?"

He didn't answer.

She stared at him and fervently willed him to resume his blank expression, to get up and walk away. But he held her gaze, the slight downturn of his brow speaking volumes.

Her eyes hardened even though her lower lip trembled and her face grew hot. Don't do this to me, she thought vehemently. Don't you dare do this to me.

But he didn't relent and her features curled into a sneer, a weak attempt to stave off the inevitable. "Save your sympathy, Uchiha. You don't even know me."

She swallowed hard, trying to choke back the lump. "Saying something like that to me..."

Even as she said the next words, she knew it was too late. Her voice broke, tears spilling down her face. "...who do you think you are?"

Itachi didn't reply. He merely looked at her, gaze painful in its depth of empathy. It knocked the foundations out from under her. She turned her head away from him, wrapping her arms around her middle as she struggled to contain the noise threatening to rip from her throat. She failed. A quiet sob slipped past her lips.

Folding into herself, she dropped her head and wept.

He got up a minute later and left, returning with a linen sheet he found on the clothesline. Reaching out, he pried her clenched fingers apart and pressed the cloth into her palm. She gripped it weakly, drawing it towards her face.

He hung by her shoulder for a minute before sitting back down. She cried till her eyes burned and chest heaved. She thought of his face, his grin, his name, until they blurred into each other and she slumped, spent, against the cushions.

The room remained silent for a long time. Slowly, the darkness dissipated, cracks of dawn light seeping through the floorboards. She lowered her eyes to her clothes, taking in the emerging blood and dirt. She finally spoke, voice hollow.

"What's it like to die?"

"Merciful," he said after a moment, "because you don't remember it."

"What's it like...after?"

He was quiet for much longer this time.

"For those who find clemency...whatever you'd like it to be."

She wanted to know more, but thought it too personal to ask. To her faint surprise, he answered the unspoken question a few seconds later, voice quiet.

"It was like finally finding sleep. After a very long, tiring journey."

Temari raised her head. She looked at the way he kept his face carefully blank; looked at how his eyes were trained with forced stillness on the wall. She looked at him, and could see the full scope of why Edo Tensei was forbidden.

He'd tasted peace fleetingly, then had been jarred awake and forcibly thrust back into the nightmare life he'd only just found reprieve from. He could not rest. He could not sleep. He didn't even have the liberty to curl up in a corner and die.

Slowly, she felt something like respect burgeon up inside of her. Respect and fear. Fear for the time it would inevitably catch up to him, for the day even Uchiha Itachi succumbed to the weight of human weakness and broke beneath it all.

She released a slow breath, pondering his words. She wondered how much he missed it.

"It sounds nice," she murmured eventually. "Makes you wonder why you'd bother living at all."

He lowered his eyes to her. "So you have something to look forward to when you get there."

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his features for a hint of deceit. Finally, she spoke, voice listless.

"Is it worth it?"

He didn't look away this time. "Yes."

There was a long stretch of silence. Temari watched him for a while, waiting for that one flicker of doubt that never came. Her eyelids grew heavy.

"Go to sleep, Temari-san."

It was the first time she'd heard her name in thirty-five days. It sounded strange and foreign to her ears, so unlike the playfully familiar way she'd heard it spoken last. Her throat constricted but she had no tears left. Instead, she looked at him in the softening daylight, imagining the inky blackness of his eyes to hold the same blithe ease as Kankuro's, his voice the same slow drawl.

She closed her eyes.

"Temari," she whispered. "Just Temari."

He didn't speak for several seconds. When he finally did, his voice had softened. "Go to sleep, Temari."

She did, leaning her head into the soft cushion and letting sleep overtake her. The sun rose shortly after, steadily spilling light into the room. He stood and moved over to her side, reaching for the linen sheet in her hand. It slipped out of her grip and she didn't stir when it settled over her shoulders.

A chair creaked as he sat back down. The sun slowly ascended into the sky. She slept through it, unaware that he stayed by her until it sank out of sight again.


End file.
